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DEAMATISTS OF THE EESTOEATIOK. 



COKAIN. 



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450 copies Small Paper. 
150 „ Large Paper. 
30 „ Whatman's Paper. 
3 „ Vellum. 



THE DRAMATIC 



WORKS OF SIR ASTON COKAIN. 



WITH PREFATORY MEMOIR, INTRODUCTIONS, 
AND NOTES. 




MDCCCLXXIV. 






EDINBURGH: WILLIAM PATERSON. 
LONDON : H. SOTHERAN & CO. 



.C.3 



MURRAY AND GIBB, EDINBURGH, 
PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE. 



TO 

JAMES O. HALLIWELL PHILLIPPS, Esq., 

F.A.S., F.R.S., 

TO WHOM THE LOVERS OF 

ANCIENT DRAMATIC AND POETIC LITERATURE 

ARE SO DEEPLY INDEBTED, 

THIS VOLUME 

IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED BY 

THE EDITORS. 



CONTENTS. 




Prefatory Memoir, .... 


Page 
ix 


A Masque, ..... 


1 


The Obstinate Lady, 


15 


Trappolin, . 


. 113 


Ovid's Tragedy, .... 


. 205 



PREFATORY MEMOIR. 

Langbaine, in giving an account of Sir Aston Cokain, 
says that he was " a gentleman who, in the reign of 
King Charles the Second, lived at his seat at Ash- 
bourne, a market-town in Derbyshire, situate between 
the river Dove and Compton. He was of an ancient 
family, as Mr. Cambden observes in the entrance 
of his description of Derbyshire; nay, further, Sir 
John Cokain of Rushton, our author's kinsman, and 
cousin-german to the Lord O'Brien Cokain, Viscount 
Cullen, in Ireland, had an ancient evidence to prove 

that Sir Cokain, their predecessor, was anciently 

allied to King William the Conqueror, and in those 
days lived at Hemmingham Castle, in Essex.* But 
whether our author fetcht his pedigree from so 
ancient a stock or no, certain it is that he was well 
descended, and had a liberal education bestowed on 
him, being in his youth bred in Trinity College, 
Cambridge, and when he was about four-and-twenty 
years of age he was sent to make a journey through 
France and Italy, which he completed in a twelve- 
month's space, anno 1632, an account of which he 
has writ to his son.t He was very much addicted to 
books and the study of poetry, spending much of his 
time in the Muses' company. Amongst his other 
poetical productions he has written three plays and a 
masque, which are in print." 

Whether the family of Cokain, as Sir Aston seems 
to have believed, was directly descended from Wil- 
liam the Conqueror, may be a matter of doubt, but 
in Lodge's Peerage, by Archdall, — Lond. 1789, 8vo, 

* See Cokain's Epigrams, 1. 2, Ep. vii. 
f See his Poems, p. 93. 



X MEMOIR. 

vol. iv., Art. " Cockaine, Viscount Cullen," — it is 
stated that " the family of Cokyn, Cokeyn, Cockaine, 
for many ages was seated at Ashbourne, in the 
county of Derby; whereof was John Cockeyn, the 
father of Andreas, whose son William, by Sarah, his 
wife, had a son of his own name, who, taking to 
wife Alice, daughter of Hugh de Dalbury, left two 
sons, — Roger, living in 1284, and John, living in 1276, 
who married Matildis (Maud), daughter of Robert 
Olderney, and had a son Andrew, who died without 
issue in 1284 (12 Edward I.), and a daughter Mar- 
gery." 

More than one of the Cokains received the honour 
of knighthood from those Kings under whose banners 
they served, but it is doubted whether there was ever 
a baronet in their family. The claim of our poet to 
his title has therefore been disputed. 

The great-grandfather of Sir Aston Cokain was Sir 
Thomas, who succeeded in 1544, and accompanied 
Edward, Earl of Hertford, in his expedition to Scot- 
land by sea, with a large fleet and well provided 
army, and was knighted by the Earl at the taking 
of Leith and Edinburgh. After the plundering and 
burning of these places, he attended him by land 
into England. He was the author of a treatise, 
printed in 4to, and embellished with woodcuts (pp. 
32), now of extreme rarity. It is titled : — 

"A Short Treatise of Hunting : Compyled for the delight of 
noblemen and gentlemen, by Sir Thomas Cockaine, Knight. 
Imprinted at London by Thomas Orwin, for Thomas Wood- 
cocke, dwelling in Paule's Churchyard, at the signe of the Black 
Beare. 1591." 4to. 

The dedication is thus addressed : 

"To the Eight Honourable and my singular good lord the 
Earle of Shrewsburie, Sir Thomas Cockaine, knight, wisheth 
increase of all honourable vertues. 

"Having (Eight Honourable), at the instance of divers my 
especiall good friends, penned this short pamphlet of my owne 
experience in hunting, and entring into consideration how 
greatly I am bounden to the nobilitie of this land, reason chal- 
lenged a speciall affection in ire to preferre the patronage 



MEMOIR. XI 

thereof to your honorable lordship before any other, as well in 
respect I had the original of my said experience under your 
most noble grandfather (whose servant I was in my younger 
years, and brought up in his house) ; as also in regard that _ I 
have received many extraordinary favors, both from your said 
most noble grandfather, from my honourable good lord your 
father, and lastly and most especially from yourself (my good 
lord), who, knowing me a professed hunter, and not a 
scholler, I make no doubt but your lordshippe wil affoord my 
plainnes herein your favourable liking. And so (my good 
lord) wishing you as honorable successe in all your vertuous 
actions as your lordshippe can desire or imagine, I humblie 
take my leave of your good lordship. 

' ' From my house neere Ashbourne, this last of December 
1590. 

" Your honourable lordship's many waies so bounden, 

' ' Thomas Cockain. " 

In his address "to the gentlemen readers," Sir 
Thomas incidentally mentions " my owne long experi- 
ence in hunting for these fiftie-two yeares now last 
past." 

Edward Cokain, born in 1554, was sheriff of the 
county of Derby. 42 Elizabeth ; married Jane, daughter 
of Nicholas Ashby, Esq. ; died in 1606, and left 
Thomas his heir ; who, by Anne, daughter of Sir John 
Stanhope of Elvaston (ancestor to Charles, Earl of 
Harrington) was father of Sir Aston Cokain, born 
28th December 1608. 

Sir Aston married Anne, daughter of Sir Gilbert 
Kniveton of Mircaston, in Derbyshire, Baronet, and, 
as Lodge goes on to say, " being a Romanist, suffered 
much for his religion and the king's cause in the civil 
wars, and then pretended to be a baronet, created 
after the king had by violence been compelled to leave 
the Parliament, about 10th January 1641 ; yet not so 
deemed by the officers of arms, because no patent was 
either enrolled or mentioned in the docquet books 
belonging to the clerk of the Crown in Chancery to 
justify it. He was esteemed by many an ingenious 
gentleman, a good poet, and a great lover of learning ; 
yet by others a perfect boon fellow, by which means 
he wasted all his estate, having sold his lordship of 
Pooley to Humfrey Jennings, Esq., reserving an 



Xll MEMOIR. 

annuity for life, several years before his death, which 
happened at Derby in February 1683, and the 13th of 
that month he was buried in the chancel of Polesworth 
church." 

Sir Aston has evidently been anxious to show how 
extensively he was connected with the nobility and 
gentry of his time, for in the collected edition of his 
poetical works, titled "A chain of golden poems, 
embellished with wit, mirth, and eloquence," appear 
verses addressed to the following : — 

" To the Right Honourable Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, Baron 
of Shelford, etc. , my uncle. " Two epigrams. 

Of six "Funeral Elegies," the second, fourth, and fifth 
are in honour of deceased female relatives, thus :— 

"On my dear sister, Mrs. Isabella Cokaine, who died at Ash- 
bourne about the 18th year of her age, and lyes there buried. 

" On the death of my dear cousin-germane, Mrs. Olive 
Cotton, who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her age, 
and lyes buried at Bently, by Ashbourne, etc. 

"A funeral elegie on my dear cousin, Mistress Elizabeth 
Reppington, who deceased at Ammington about the 18th year 
of her age, and lyes buried at Tamworth." 

Next come poetical "Letters to divers Persons," 
as follows : — 

"1. To the Right Honourable John, Lord Mohan, Baron of 
Okehampton, my uncle-in-law. 

"2. To my friend and kinsman Mr. George Gifford, who 
called his mistress ' the green bird of France, ' 

"7. To my cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton. 

"8. To my son, Mr. Thomas Cokaine." 

Among " Encomiastick" verses on several books is 
one : 

"To my most honoured cousin, Mr. Charles Cotton the 
younger, upon his excellent poem." 

Commendatory verses by Thomas Bancroft preface 
these poems. They are addressed "To his noble 
friend Sir Aston Cokain, on his poetical composures." 
In Cokain's poetical " Letters to divers Persons," he 
has one " To my very good friend Mr. Thomas Ban- 
croft, on his works •" and another, among his " Encomi- 
astick Verses," " To my learned friend Mr. Thomas 



MEMOIR. Xlll 

Bancroft, upon his Book of Satyrs;" and a third, " To 
my learned friend Mr. Thomas Bancroft, on his 
poem entituled the Heroick Lover." 

Above all, he appears to have been more than 
usually delighted at his near relationship to Yiscount 
Cullen, which arose in this way : 

William, younger son of Sir John Cockaine and 
Isabel Shirley, progenitor to the Lord Viscount Cul- 
len. He was the father of Thomas Cockaine, Esq., 
the father of Eoger of Baddesley, in the county of 
Warwick, the father of William Cockaine of London, 
citizen and skinner, and also merchant-adventurer in 
the Muscovy, Spanish, Portugal, and Eastland Com- 
panies, of which last he was governor. He married 
twice, but by the first wife, Elizabeth, daughter of 
Eoger Medcalfe of Wensgale, had only issue, and 
deceasing in 1599, was buried in the church of St. 
Peter-le-Poor, London, under a handsome monument, 
at the east end of the chancel, with this memorial : — 

" Here lieth the body of the worshipful Mr. William Cockaine 
the elder, citizen and skinner of London, who departed this 
life the 18th day of November 1599. Also here lieth the body 
of Elizabeth Metcalfe, his first wife, by whom he had 7 sons 
and 4 daughters ; all which daughters departed this life before 
any of them accomplished the age of ten years. The 7 sons 
lived, and the youngest of them (at his death) was fully 28 
years of age. Which said Elizabeth departed this life the 5th 
day of April 1589. Here also lieth the body of Catherine 
Wonton, his second wife, who died the 19th of September 1596, 
by whom he had no issue." 

The house of Sir William Cockaine was in Broad 
Street, and was burnt down not long after he had 
given an entertainment to King James : — 

"Wednesday, the 12th of November 1623, the house of Sir 
William Cockayn, Knight, alderman of London, in Broad- 
streete, in the evening one of his warehouses began to take fire, 
by negligence, as was suspected, of laying up wett fiaxe in the 
place, which fired itselfe, and ceased not till two of the clock the 
next morning ; in which space it burnt his whole house and 
three of his neighbours' houses, to the great damage and danger 
of many neere inhabitants, and to the great fright and terrour 
of the whole citie, chiefely the east part of the citie. Sir Hugh 
Middleton, Knight Baronet, upon the first knowledge thereof, 



XIV MEMOIR. 

caused all the sluices of the water-cesterne in the field to be 
left open, whereby there was plenty of water to quench the fire. 
This water (of the New Eiver) hath done many like benefits in 
sundry like former distresses." — Howe's Chronicle. 

Sir William Cockaine, who succeeded his father, 
was also a citizen and skinner of London, and in 1609 
sheriff of that city ; elected soon after an alderman. 
And in 1612, King James having the plantation of 
Ulster much at heart, granted a considerable tract of 
land in that province to the city of London, who sent 
over about 300 artificers to begin and forward the 
plantation thereof, and appointed Mr. Cockaine their 
first director and governor, who had lands assigned 
him there, and under whose directions the city of 
Londonderry was established. On 8th June 1616 
the King honoured him with his presence at dinner 
at his house in London, when he was pleased to make 
him a knight; with whom he was in such esteem, 
that he was often heard by him in Parliament and at 
the Council table, and consulted with him on more 
private affairs; and so well satisfied was the King 
with his comprehension of business, his manner of 
expressing his intentions, digesting and uttering his 
purposes, that he used to say of him he never heard 
any man of his breeding handle business more ration- 
ally, more pertinently, more elegantly, more persua- 
sively. In 1619 he served the office of Lord Mayor 
of London, and that year purchased the manor of 
Elmsthorpe, in the county of Leicester, from Sir John 
Harrington; but in 1626, after two days' sickness, he 
departed this life, and in a most exemplary manner, 
and was buried 12th December in the cathedral church 
of St. Paul, when a sermon was preached by Dr. John 
Donne, dean of that church, in which his character 
may be seen at large ; and in the south aisle a monu- 
ment was set up in memory of so good a magistrate and 
worthy a citizen, with the following inscription : — ■ 

"M.S. 
" Gulielmus Cockainus, Eques Auratus, Civis, et Senator Lon- 
dinensis, septemque abhinc Annis Urbis prsefectus Antiqua 






MEMOIR. XV 

Cockainorum Derbiensium Familia oriundus. Qui Bono publico 
vixit, et Damno publico decessit, et Gaudio Publico Kegem 
Jacobum, ad Decorem liujus Domus Dei, senescentis jam et 
corrugatse, restituendum, solenniter hue venientem consulatu 
suo, magnifice excepit, id circo in Templo Publico, ad iEternam 
Eei Memoriam. 

Hie situs est. 
At vero et Famae celebritas, quae viget in ore Hominum, et 
Gloria Beatitudinis, quam migrando adeptus est, et Splendor 
Sobolis, quam numerosam genuit atque nobilem reliquit, junc- 
tim efficiunt omnia, ne dicatur. 

Hie situs est. 

Una cum illo, tot homines mortui, quot in illo defunctae sunt 
virtutes ; simulque et Acies Ingenii et popularis Eloquii suada, 
et morum gravitas, et Probitas vitae, et Candor mentis, et 
Animi Constantia, et prudentia singularis, et veri Senatoris 
Insignia. 

Hie sepulta sunt. 

Jam tuum est, Lector, Felicitatis ad culmen anhelare per 

ista vestigia Laudis et venerandi Imitatione Exempli, curare, ne 

unquam virtutis sic semina intereant, ut dicatur, 

Hie sepulta sunt. 

Obiit 20 Octob. An. Dom. 1626, 

Et ^Etatis suae 66. " 

His wife was Mary, daughter of Eichard Morris of 
London, Esq., by whom he had two sons, — Charles 
(created Viscount Cullen), William, — and six daugh- 
ters. 

The family continued to flourish as Irish Peers for 
considerably more than a century after the date of 
their creation as Viscounts Cullen, but became extinct 
in the year 1806, in the person of the half-brother of 
Charles, whose death is thus recorded in the maga- 
zines of the day : — 

" 1th June 1806. — At his seat at Kushton Hall, co. Northamp- 
ton, in his 9 2d year, the Right Honourable Charles Cockayne, 
fifth Viscount Cullen of Ireland. He was born Sept. 21, 1710, 
and attained the above advanced period of life in the enjoyment 
of an uninterrupted state of good health, of excellent abilities, 
and of a very cheerful turn of mind, to which he united the 
inestimable virtues of true benevolence and unbounded gene- 
rosity. His lordship was of ancient lineage, and paternally 
descended from Andreas Cockayne, lord of Ashbourne, in 
Derbyshire, in the reign of King Henry ii., whose descendants 
frequently represented that county in Parliament. With others 



XVI MEMOIR. 

of his maternal ancestors may be named the O'Briens, Earls of 
Thomond, and the Lords Willoughby of Parham. Of the elder 
branch of the former his lordship was the representative ; and 
by the latter he derived his descent from the illustrious houses 
of York, Lancaster, Arundel, and Portland. He married, first, 
May 4, 1732, his first cousin, Anne, daughter of Borlase Warren, 
Esq. of Stapleford Hall, co. Nottingham, by whom he had three 
sons and six daughters — only one daughter living ; secondly, 
Sophia, daughter of John Baxter, Esq., by whom he had Wil- 
liam, married to Barbara, youngest daughter of Sergeant Hill, 
and now Yiscount Cullen. This second lady survived him but 
five weeks, dying July 12," at the King's Arms Inn, Oxford, on 
her way from Bristol. 

His successor enjoyed his honours for a very few 
years, he having died in 1810; and, as no claim has 
been made by any of the male descendants of the first 
Viscount, there is every reason to believe that the 
viscounty is extinct. His death is thus noticed in 
the Gentleman's Magazine for Aug. 1810 : — 

"At St. Alban's, where he had been five -and -forty years 
under the late Dr. Cotton and his successor Dr. Pellet, aged 74, 
the Right Honourable Borlase Cockayne, Lord Yiscount Cullen 
of the kingdom of Ireland. His only half-brother, "William, 
having died without male issue 8th October last, the title is 
supposed to be extinct, as there are not known to be any male 
descendants of the earlier Peers surviving. He was to be buried 
with his ancestors at Eushton, in Northamptonshire." 

In the supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine, 
1801, there is a letter, signed "Matt. Rugeley," giving 
a brief notice of "a pleasant village" in Bedfordshire 
called "Cockayne Hatly;" more particularly in regard 
to the ancient church, which he describes as "an 
ancient regular structure, with a nave and side aisles, 
built, as is supposed, by Sir John Cockayne, as his 
arms are in the brackets that support the roof, and in 
many other parts of the church. On the north side 
of the nave is a raised altar-tomb, which covers the 
remains of Sir John Cokayne, Kt., Chief Baron of 
the Exchequer in the reign of King Henry iv. On 
the top was his effigies engraved on brass, with his 
arms at each corner, but now entirely gone." 

The writer next notices " a very handsome monu- 
ment in the south aisle, with the figures of an armed 



MEMOIR. XV11 

knight and his lady kneeling at an altar, with the 
following inscriptions," which evolve the remarkable 
fact of a connection of the family of Cokain with 
that of the Humes of Wedderburn. 
Over the knight is this : — 

"S. DeoO. M. 

Memoriseq. et mortalibus 

Exuviis C. L. V. D. Patritii Home, 

Equitis Aurati, cui ex nobilissima 

Familia Homea de Wedderburne, 

Apud Scotos oriuiido, Musis sanct. 

Andreanis innutrito, Artiumque ibidem 

M to . dein circa annum Salutis 

CIO.IO.LXXXVII. 

a Rege Magisterio canum leporum 

rariorum donato, Regemq. eodem munere 

in Angliam secuto ibique accipitrum 

Regiorum." 

Over the lady is this : — 

" Custodiam 

Adepto probeq. functo, 

denato denique setatis X'ti 

A°- cio.iocxxi, suae vero 

xlix. atq. in colonia coelesti 

nunc recensite, lectissima conjux 

Elizabetha, Filia Johannis Cokayne, 

de Cokayne Hatley, in com. 

Bedf. Armigeri, iu conjugalis fidei 

Corporisq. seternum indivulsi sponsionem 

Amorisque monumentum hoc statuit." 

Under the lady is : — 

"In CI. Y. Dominum Patritium 

Home, vulgo Hume, Scotum. 

Quam male convenit tibi natis, 

Quam male nomen ! 

Istud Humum Hominemq. sonat, 

sonat ilia Tenebras." 

Under the knight : — 

" Vita sed illustris, nee propter 

Humtjm tibi neque 

nudum Hominem sperarat, erat : 

nunc corpore tandem, 

atq. homine exuto, quantum mutatus 

ab illo es ! 

b 



XV111 MEMOIR. 

Corpus Humo Tenebrisque relinquis, 

csetera vivis, 

iEternum indutus Lucemq. Polumq. 

Deumq." 

There are other inscriptions throughout the church 
over the remains of several members of the family of 
Cokain, given in detail in Mr. Rugeley's letter, which 
concludes thus : — 

"At the east end of the church stands the old family mansion 
of the Cockaynes, surrounded with a broad and deep moat, over 
which is a drawbridge. The entrance to the house is through 
an ancient porch into a large hall (that occupies the whole height 
of the building), with a curious timber roof, and a music gallery 
at one end, built in the reign of William Bufus. The ends of the 
house are of a more modern date. The estate continued in the 
family of the Cockaynes till about the year 1740, when it came 
to Savile Cockayne Cust, Esq., who left it to Sir John Cust, 
late Speaker of the House of Commons, and is now in possession 
of Miss Lucy Cockayne Cust." 

The works of Sir Aston Cokain are these : — 

1. Masque : presented at Berthie, in Derbyshire, 1639, before 
the then Earl of Chesterfield, on a Twelfth Night. 

2. Dianea : an excellent new Komance. Written in Italian 
by Gio. Francisco Loredano, a noble Venetian. In foure books. 
Translated into English by Sir Aston Cokaine. London, printed 
for Humphrey Moseley, at the sign of the Prince's Arms, in St. 
Paul's Churchyard. 1654. 12mo. 

This is dedicated "to the Right Hon. the Lady Mary 
Cokaine, Vice-Countess Cullen." "My best of friends, Colonell 
Stamford, gave me the author, and intreated me to teach him 
our language." To this "worthy friend" he has an epigram, p. 
157 of his poems. 

3. In 1658 appeared "Small Poems of Divers Sorts. Writ- 
ten by Sir Aston Cokain. London, printed by Will. Godbid." 

To these were appended : 

4. "The Obstinate Lady: a Comedy. Written by Aston 
Cokain." 

5. "Trappolin Creduto Principe: or, Trappolin suppos'd a 
Prince. An Italian Trage-Comedy. " 

6. In 1662 these were re-issued, with the addition of "The 
Tragedy of Ovid, written by Sir Aston Cokain, Baronet," and 
a general title-page thus : "Poems. With the Obstinate Lady, 
and Trapolin a supposed Prince. By Sir Aston Cokain, 
Baronet. Whereunto is now added the Tragedy of Ovid, in- 
tended to be acted shortly. London : Printed for Phil. 



MEMOIR. XIX 

Stephens, junior, at the King's Arms, over Middle Temple 
Gate, in Fleet Street, 1662." The Tragedy of Ovid appears to 
have also been issued separately at this time, as well as in 1669. 
"Thersites, and Tyrannical Government, which may well be 
supposed to be none of his, though placed to him by Winstanly 
and Phillips. You may find it in their alphabet of anonymous 
plays." — Continuation of Longbaine, 1699. 

The biographers of Sir Aston Cokain have univer- 
sally, when noting the printed edition of the Tragedy 
of Ovid, added "with his bust laureated, and four 
lines underneath." 

The portrait prefixed to the Tragedy of Ovid is not 
that of Sir Aston, but of Ovid. It is a medallion in 
which is the bust of Ovid, his head encircled with a 
laurel leaf, with the legend around, "Poetarum ingeni- 
osissimus. Publius Ovidius Naso, eques Romanus." 
And underneath are these lines : — 

" The sweet-tongu'd Ovid's counterfeit behold, 
Which noblest Romans wore in rings of gold. ; 
Or would you that, which his own pencil drew, 
The poet in his deathless poems view." 

There is, however, a portrait of Sir Aston Cockayne, 
without an engraver's name, a laurelled bust, with 
these lines : — 

" Come, reader, draw thy purse, and be a guest 
To our Parnassus ; 'tis the Muses' feast. 
The entertainment needs must be divine ; 
Apollo's th' host, where Cockain's head's the sign. " 

The merits of his several dramatic pieces which 
form this volume have been individually discussed in 
their relative prefaces, and it will be some satisfaction 
to the editors to learn that their readers' opinion 
coincides in some measure with their own. 

James Maidment. 
W. H. Logan. 

Edinburgh, 20th January 1874. 



A MASQUE, 

PRESENTED AT BRETHIE, IN DERBYSHIRE, 
ON TWELFTH NIGHT, 1639. 



From A Cham of Poems, written by Sir Aston Cockayne. 
London, printed by W. G., and are to be sold by Isaac Prid- 
'tiiore at the Golden Falcon, near the New Exchange. 1658. 
12mo. 



'The following Masque was presented at Brethie, in Derbyshire, 
on Twelfth Night, 1639, before the Right Honourable Philip, 
the first Earl of Chesterfield — uncle of the author— and his 
Countess, ' ' two of their sons acting in it. The diversion 
terminated with a ball." Langbaine observes: "This Enter- 
tainment has been omitted in all former catalogues, as, I 
suppose, through an oversight, it being but short, and printed 
in the body of the author's poems amongst others of a different 
nature. " 

Philip, first Earl of Chesterfield, was son of Sir John Stan- 
hope, who, in the 38th of Elizabeth, was constituted Treasurer 
of the Chamber, and, in 24th of the same reign, was made Con- 
stable of the Castle of Colchester, both of which appointments 
were for life. Philip, in the 14th of James I., — i.e. in 1616, — 
was advanced to the dignity of Baron of the realm, by the title 
of Lord Stanhope of Shelford ; and in the 4th of Car. I. created 
Earl of Chesterfield, in Com. Dcrb. He was twice married — 
first to Catharine, daughter of Erancis, Lord Hastings, son and 
heir to George, Earl of Huntingdon, by whom he had eleven 
sons ; of which John, Charles, Edward, William, Thomas, 
Michael, and George died young ; Philip was slain in de- 
fence of Shelford House, his father's residence, in the time 
of the Civil War ; and Ferdinand had also lost his life in the 
King's cause some two years previously. Henry thus became 
heir-apparent to the earldom, but, dying during his father's life- 
time, Arthur only survived, and two daughters, — Sarah, mar- 
ried to Sir Richard Houghton, Bart. , and Elizabeth, to Edward 
Darcy, Esq. of Newhall, in Com. Derb. By his second wife, 
Anne, daughter of Sir John Packington of Westwood, in Com. 
Wigom., knight, and widow of Sir Humphrey Ferrers of Tam- 
worth Castle, Com. War., he had only one son, Alexander, 
who became Ambassador to the Court of Spain, and afterwards 
Envoy Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the States of Hol- 
land. This is the account given in the Peerage of England, 
2d edition, 1710, 8vo, supposed to be written by Collins ; but in 
the case lately presented to the House of Lords by George Philip 
Stanhope, who successfully claimed the earldom, it is stated that 
there were two sons the issue of this marriage,— Alexander and 
George, — the two young gentlemen, it is to be presumed, who 
performed in the Masque. The earl died 12th Sept. 1656, and 
was succeeded by his grandson Philip, only son of Henry, heir- 
apparent. 

In Sir Aston's Poems these lines, dedicated to the memory 
of one of his cousins just mentioned, occur : — 



4 A MASQUE. 

An Epitaph of Colonel Ferdinand Stanhope, son to the Earl of 
Chesterfield, who was slain about Shelford, and lies there 
buried. 

" Here underneath this monumental stone 
Lie Honour, Youth, and Beauty, all in one ; 
For Ferdinando Stanhope here doth rest, 
Of all those Three the most unequal'd Test. 
He was too handsome and too stout to be 
Met face to face by any enemy ; 
Therefore his foe, full for his death inclin'd, 
Stole basely near, and shot him through behind. " 



THE PROLOGUE. 

To be spoken by whom the Masquers shall appoint. 

To you, great lord, and you, most excellent lady, 
And all this well met, welcome company, 
Thus low I bow, and thank, that you will grace 
Our rude solemnities with such a presence. 



A MASQUE. 



The Lar Familiaris of the house being proud of so much 
and great company, and glad of their free and noble 
entertainment, appears, to congratulate the hospitality 
of the Lord and Lady, and speaks these lines : — 

Better than I could wish ! Superlative 

To all relations, not examples now ! 

I've known the household gods of Rome and Greece, 

And all the good Penates of fam'd Troy, — 

Heard what they could triumph in, of their fates ; 

Tell jovial stories of the frolic Greeks, 

And the great banquets of fam'd Ilium ; 

Have been inform'd of Egypt's glorious feasts 

To entertain the courtly Antony : 

Yet was there or necessity, or pride, 

Or empty prodigality in all. 

Here is a course steer'd even and voluntary ; 

And I rejoice as much as Ganymede, 

Olympus' nectar and ambrosia keeper. 

Here I grow fat, with plenty of all sorts 

That either seas, or land, or air can yield ; 

And here I live as well admir'd, as envied 

By all the Lares of all other places : 

For there's a constancy in my delights, 

A blest Elysium, where I do not want 

The tithe of any wish I ever thought. 

The proudest Lares of the greatest princes 

May boast of state, and languish in a noise, 

Whilst here I live secure, and do enjoy 

As much of everything but fears and dangers. 

And may it last while fate attends on time, 

Until the supreme deities of heaven 



8 A MASQUE. 

Think you too worthy to adorn the earth, 
And mean to fix you glorious stars in heaven ! 
And while there's air but to receive a sound, 
May your names busy it to speak your praise ! 
Continue ever matchless, as you are 
A pair without compare, and but a pair. 

A Satyr, invited by the loudness of the music and the 
perpetual concourse of people, to inform himself to 
what end all tended, comes boldly in, and- meets with 
the Lar Familiaris. 

Lar. What means this bold intrusion ? 

Sat. Friend, forbear! 

Though I was born i' th' woods, and rudely bred 
Among the savages, I have a mind 
Aspires the knowledge of great princes' courts. 
And to what end aims all this jollity 
In yours as well as others' palaces ] 

Lar. Dost thou approach to censure our delights, 
And nip them in the bud 1 Satyr, take heed ! 
We'll hunt you hence through all the woods and lawns, 
And over all the brooks thine eyes have seen. 

Sat. You threaten more, perhaps, than you can do. 
What art 1 

Lar. I am this palace deity. 

Sat. I wish thou wert a servant unto Pan, 
Or any god that doth frequent the fields. 

Lar. So would I not ; I'm better as I am. 

Sat. Thy ignorance bewitches thee to this : 
Thou liv'st among all fears, all noise, all cares, 
While I walk merry under heaven's bright eye. 
We in the fields are free from any sin 
Against th' almighty deities of heaven : 
We know no law but nature's, do not tremble 
At princes' frowns, have neither fear nor hope, 
And are content, — a state the gods exceed not. 
You languish in a perpetuity 
Of thoughts, as unconfin'd as are your ends; 
You truly lavish all your faculties 
In getting covetous wealth, which we contemn. 






A MASQUE. 9 

Your sleeps are starting, full of dreams and fears, 

And ours as quiet as the barques in calms. 

The youthful spring makes us our beds of flowers, 

And heaven-bright summer washeth us in springs 

As clear as any of your mistress' eyes. 

The plenteous autumn doth enrich our banquets 

With earth's most curious fruits, and they unbought. 

The healthful winter doth not pain our bones, 

For we are arm'd for cold and heat in nature. 

We have no unkind loves in meads or fields 

That scorn our tears, or slight our amorous sighs ; 

Nor are we frantic with fond jealousy, 

The greatest curse Jove could inflict on's Queen 

For all her curious search into his life. 

We in the woods esteem that beast the stateliest 

That hath his head the richliest spread with horns. 

The Golden Age remains with us, so fam'd 

By your Athenian and Eoman poets. 

Thus we enjoy what all you strive to get 

With all the boundless riches of your wit. 

Lar. Satyr ! when I but say th' art ignorant, 
Thy flourishing boast is answered at the full. 

Sat. But I desire a larger way. 

Lar. And take it ! 

Canst thou compare the rags of nakedness 
Before the studied dressings of these times, 
And canst thou, like a cold and stony cave 
Before the perfum'd beds of palaces, 
Admire the melancholy falls of waters, 
Or whistling music of th' inconstant winds ; 
The chirping discords of the wanton birds 
Above the angel- voices of our ladies, 
And th' exquisite variety of music 
Order'd to thousand several instruments ; 
Content to cloy thy homely appetite 
With crabs, and sloes, and nuts, and rude-mix'd herbs, 
Before the stately banquets of the great % 
How canst thou like beasts' inarticulate voices 
Above the Heaven-given eloquence of men % 
Forsake the woods, fond Satyr, and but try 



10 A MASQUE. 

The unthought difference 'twixt them and us ! 
The hills are fit for beasts. Converse with men, 
And thou wilt never like thy cause again. 

Sat. Thou almost dost persuade me ; but then I 
Shall leave mine old and honest company. 

Lar. Thy new ones shall exceed them. Here's a 
butler 
Will give thee wine as rich as is thy blood ; 
And here's a cook will clothe thy bones with flesh 
As rich as was young Jason's golden fleece. 

Sat. Well ! I will live with thee. 

Lar. And welcome, Satyr ! 

Sat. Spite of the fates, and Grecia's best protector, 
I'll be Achilles, and o'ercome by Hector.* 

Lar. A resolution worthy thy Sylvanus ! 

Sat. But for my last farewell unto the woods, 
I'll show you a wild dance of nimble Satyrs ; 
For we do dance as much as they that live 
In princes' courts and tissue palaces. 

First Song. 

You Satyrs that in woods 
Have frozen up your bloods, 
Advance yourselves, and show 
What great Pan's men can do ! 
Appear ! 

Here you had need beware, 
And move as swift as air ; 
These are not sylvan swains, 
But courtly lords and dames 
Sit here. 

* The cook's name. 






A MASQUE. 1 1 



The Anti-Masque. 

Satyrs rudely but decently attired, stuck with flowers, 
and bay-chaplets on thei/r heads, come in, and dance 
as many several antics, and in as many several shapes, 
as shall be necessary. Being ready to depart, two 
excellent youths, in rich apparel, come strivwg in 
together, to whom the Lar speaks. 

Lar. What do you mean, sweet boys, to interrupt 
Our sports % I pray you leave your wrestling thus, 
And do not strike your skins, too soft for blows. 

1 Boy. He would outrun me, and be kiss'd before 
me. 

2 Boy. And he leave me among these dreadful 
Satyrs. 

Lar. Whence come you 1 

1 Boy. We both were left i' th' woods, and tempted 

Such things as these to live abroad with them. 
Lar. What would you have ? 

1 Boy. I would go to my father. 

2 Boy. And I unto my mother. 
Lar. Who is your father 1 

1 Boy. The ever-honour'd Earl of Chesterfield, 
Worthy of all his titles by his virtues, 

And full of noble thoughts, — a great maintainer 
Of our great-grandfather's virtue — hospitality ; 
The feeder of the poor ; whose gate 's so open 
It doth not need the office of a porter ; 
Whose house is now Delphian Apollo's seat, 
For he's the patron of all arts and wit ! 
Lar. And who is your mother, pretty one 1 

2 Boy. She is the Countess to that noble Lord, — 
A lady worthy more than earth can give her ; 
Eich in those virtues make her sex admired ; 

A fair exceeder of the best examples 

That Greek or Roman stories ere produc'd ; 

Goddess of Tame, of Anchor, and of Trent. 



12 A MASQUE. 

She's such an one as hath none equal to her, 
And therefore you may very easily know her. 

Lar. I know them both, and honour'd in my know- 
ledge. 
Sweet youth, yond' is your father ; kiss his hand ! 
And that, fair little one, th' unequall'd lady 
You asked for. Go, and beg a kiss of her ! 

Here the Lord of the house gives his hand to his son, and 
the Countess kisses her son. Then the Satyr speaks 
to his companions. 

Sat. Fellows, since you have done, farewell ! I'll 
leave you 
And all the rural pastimes of the woods ; 
I like this noble company so well, 
That I hereafter here intend to dwell. 

The Anti-Masquers depart ; then the Lar Familiaris 

speaks to the Satyr. 

Lar. Now, Satyr, I will let thee see how far 
The palace-pleasures do exceed the woods. 

The Lar leads the Satyr to a curious lower, all dech'd 
with the best and finest flowers of the season, and 
opens a wide entry into it, where, sitting upon 
pleasant banks, full of the sweetest herbs and deli 
catest flowers, he discovers the Masquers, then 
presently invites them forth with this song : — 

Second Song. 
i. 

It is unfit we should be dumb, 

When beauties like to those of heaven, 
To grace our mirths, are hither come, 
And help to make our measures even. 
Then let us dance, and let us sing, 
Till hills and dales with echoes ring. 






A MASQUE. 



13 



Now it is fit our souls should know- 
No thought but what is full of pleasure ; 
That we our sorrows should out-go, 

And tread them down in every measure. 
Then let us dance, and let us sing, 
Till hills and dales with echoes ring. 



in. 

'Tis mirth that raiseth up the mind, 

And keeps diseases from the heart ; 
Sports harmless never were inclin'd 
To cherish vice, but to divert. 

Then let us dance, and let us sing, 
Till hills and dales with echoes ring. 

Here the Grand Masquers come forth, the ladies dress d 
like the ancient goddesses. Then the Lar speaks to 
the Satyr. 

Lar. Satyr, sit ! and observe awhile alone, 
For I do mean to mix with these in dance. 

Here they dance what or as many set dances as they 
please, the Masquers being men and women, or 
only women. When they have danced all they in- 
tended, the Lar, or one of the Masquers, invites the 
spectatw-ladies with this song to join with them, : — 



Third Song. 
I. 

Come, ladies, rise, and let us know, 
Now you have seen, what you can do. 
Hark ! how the music doth invite 
All you to solemnize this night ; 
Then let the sounds that you do hear 
Order your feet unto your ear. 



14 A MASQUE. 



rise ! rise altogether, 

And let us meet ; 
Music's divine, and well may join 

Our motions rude unto a sweet. 



II. 

The figures of the magic art 
We'll equal in a better part ; 
Judicial astrology 
Cannot cast such an one as we ; 
Add but your skill, as we desire, 
And we'll keep time to Phoebus' lyre ! 
rise ! rise altogether, 

And let us meet ; 
Music's divine, and well may join 

Our motions rude unto a sweet. 



Here all the company dance what they please and while 
they please. Wlien they leave, the Lar, or one of 
the Masquers, sings this to the spectator-ladies as 
they go from them : — 

Fourth Song. 

Ladies, enough ! we dare not 

Tempt you to more than this. 
Now may your servants spare not 

To give each of you a kiss. 
If we were they, you should have them, 

To recompense your pain. 
happy they that gave them, 

And may give them again ! 
'Tis late — good night ; go sleep, and may 
Soft slumbers crown your eyes till day ! 

This being sung, the Masquers, the Lar Familiaris, 
and the Satyr go into the arbour, which closes on 
them. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY; 
A COMEDY. 



The Obstinate Lady ; A new Comedy never formerly pub- 
lished. The scene London. Written by Sir Aston Cockayn. 
London, Printed by W. Godbid for Isaac Pridmore, and are 
to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Falcon, beyond the New 
Exchange, in the Strand. 1657. Uo. 

The Obstinate Lady ; A Comedy. Written by Aston Cokain. 
London, Printed by William Godbid. 1658. 



The first edition of The Obstinate Lady was printed in 4to 
in 1657, but without the knowledge or consent of the author. 
The year following appeared "A Chain of Poems, embellished 
with wit, mirth, and eloquence ; together with two most ex- 
cellent comedies, viz. The Obstinate Lady and Trappolin 
suppos'd a Prince, written by Sir Aston Cockayn. London, 
printed by W[illiam] G[odbid], and are to be sold by Isaac 
Pridmore," at the Golden Falcon, near the New Exchange. 
12mo." The author, in his " Apology to the Reader," affords 
this information: "These poor trifles, courteous reader, had 
not now become so troublesome to the world, if it had been in 
my power to have prevented them ; for at my going once out 
of London, I left them with a friend of mine, who dying, they 
were dispersed into divers hands. Mr. William Godbid got my 
Obstinate Lady, and though he found it with the last leaf torn 
out, wherein my conclusion to the play with the epilogue were, 
he procured some acquaintance of his to supply the defect at the 
end, and so printed it. And though that comedy be very much 
of it writ in number, he put it forth as if the most part of it 
were prose. Here you have that defect much amended, and my 
own conclusion and. epilogue added. I was fearful my Trap- 
polin and other poems should have run the like misfortune, and 
therefore made a diligent inquiry after them, and when I had 
found them out, could not get them delivered without parting 
with some money, and promising my honest friend, Mr. W. 
Godbid, — after I had afforded him some small correction, — I 
would bestow them on him, with my consent, for the press ; 
for, indeed, without his assistance I should not have recovered 
them out of a gentleman's hands, whom I will forbear to name." 
Mr. W. Godbid, printer, although his "honest friend," would 
seem to have secured his own advantage in the transaction. 
However, there is not much to complain about, apart from 
monetary expectations, if such there were on the part of the 
author, inasmuch as that portion of The Obstinate Lady which 
Mr. Godbid's "acquaintance" had supplied consists often lines 
only. It is a continuation of Falorus' speech, and comes in 
thus, after he has said, " How you have fix'd me in a fortunate 
and glorious life :" — 

" Madam Rosinda, I thank you. Come, my dear Lucora, let us 
bid our friends good night, with as short a compliment as may be, 
— for I'm in haste, — that so we may congratulate each other's 
happiness in a place more convenient. 
" Jaq. I'll follow you, I'll warrant you, 
Into the cellar. But stay — O ! 
I had almost forgot — 

B 



18 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 



Thus have you seen, by patience great, 
You may o'ercome a lady obstinate." 

Copies of the collected editions of Sir Aston Cockayne's works 
are very scarce, and command a high price in the book market. 
The rarity of the quarto edition of The Obstinate Lady forms 
the principal claim to its being reprinted here; while at the 
same time the author's clever plays of Trappolin and of Ovid's 
Tragedy, which follow, determined the publication of his entire 
dramatic works. 

Of the play itself, the Biographia Dramatica says, but upon 
what authority is not stated, "it met with no great success." 
That it was ever performed appears questionable, for although 
not devoid of some merit, the incidents and some of the charac- 
ters of the piece did not present sufficient novelty at the time 
to render it more than usually attractive. There is a close 
resemblance throughout to Massinger's Very Woman, and the 
"Carionil" and "Lucora" of Cockayne appear to be the reflex 
of the "Don John Antonio" and "Almira" of Massinger, to 
whom our author in his poems addresses, as his friend, some 
eulogistic verses on his tragi-comedy called The Emperor of 
the East, and others on his tragi-comedy called The Maid of 
Honour. These are reprinted among the several commendatory 
poems prefacing Gifford's edition of Massinger's plays, 4 vols. 
8vo, 1805-13. The first of these was written at the instigation 
of Lord Mohun, Cockayne's uncle, to whom the tragi-comedy 
was. inscribed, and who was so pleased with a perusal of Mas- 
singer's printed works, that he not only commissioned his 
nephew to express his satisfaction, but to present the writer 
"with a token of his love and intended favour." Here is an 
excerpt : — 

" Thou more than poet ! our Mercury, that art 
Apollo's messenger, and dost impart 
His best expressions to our ears, live long ! 
To purify the slighted English tongue, 
That both the nymphs of Tagus and of Po 
May not henceforth despise our language so. 
Nor could they do it if they e'er had seen 
The matchless features of the Faerie Queene — 
Read Jonson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, or 
Thy neat-lined pieces, skilful Massinger. 
Thou known, all the Castellians must confess 
De Vega Carpio thy foil, and bless 
His language can translate thee, and the fine 
Italian wits yield to this work of thine." 

Through Sir Aston Cockayne's poems one fact was contri- 
buted to the meagre biographical history of Philip Massinger, — 
that he assisted Fletcher in the composition of several of his 
plays ; and this has been confirmed by Malone, who, when an 
inquiry was set on foot, succeeded in finding evidence in the 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 19 

archives of Dulwich College. These confirmatory documents 
will be found in GifFord's Life of Massinger, prefixed to his 
dramatic works, vol. i. p. 49. 

Attention was first called to this by Sir Aston's poem 
addressed to Humphrey Mosley and Mr. Humphrey Robinson, 
the publishers of Beaumont and Fletcher's collected works in 
folio, thus : — 

" In the large book of plays you late did print 
In Beaumont and in Fletcher's name, why in't 
Did you not justice ? — give to each his due ? 
For Beaumont of those many writ but few, 
And Massinger in other few ; the main 
Being sole issues of sweet Fletcher's brain. 
But how I came, you ask, so much to know ? 
Fletcher's chief bosom-friend informed me so. 
I' th' next impression therefore justice do, 
And print their old ones in one volume too ; 
For Beaumont's works and Fletcher's should come forth, 
With all the right belonging to their worth." 

Again, in his letter "To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton," 
he says : 

" Had Beaumont liv'd when this edition came 
Forth, and beheld his ever-living name 
Before plays that he never writ, how he 
Had frown'd and blush'd at such impiety ! 
His own renown no such addition needs, 
To have a fame sprung from another's deeds. 
And my good friend, old Philip Massinger, 
With Fletcher wrote in some that we see here." 

The incident of Cleanthe, in the Obstinate Lady, disguising 
herself and following Phyginois as a page, is borrowed from 
Beaumont and Fletcher's very poetical play of Philaster, or 
Love-lies-a- Bleeding. There, Euphrasia, the daughter of Dion, 
assumes the name of Bellario and follows Philaster, to whom 
she is eventually united. Tobin has made use of the same 
device in his excellent comedy called the Honeymoon. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

Brave crown of gallants, welcome ! May this place 
Meet expectation ; you afford us grace. 
We joy that such a multitude divine 
Of planets in our little spheres do shine ; 
And that besides our horizon is stuck 
With lesser lights, we do esteem 't good luck. 
For the great favour, may each several scene 
Affect you more than Hebe's nectar Heaven. 
We can but wish 't ; for if y' are come to-day 
In expectation of a faultless play, 
Writ by learn'd Jonson, or some able pen 
Fam'd and approv'd of by the world, you then 
We disappoint. Our poet had never yet 
Hisses condemn, or hands commend his wit. 
Troth, gentlemen, we know that now-a-days 
Some come to take up wenches at our plays ; 
It is not our design* to please their sense, 
We wish they may go discontented hence. 
And many gallants hither come, we think, 
To sleep, and to digest their too much drink : 
We may please them, for we will not molest, 
With drums or trumpets, any of their rest. 
If perfum'd wantons do for eighteenpence 
Expect an angel, and alone go hence, 
We shall be glad with all our hearts, for we 
Had rather have their room than company ; 
For many an honest gentleman is gone 
Away for want of place, as, look ye, yon ! 
We guess some of you ladies hither come 
To meet your servants, wh' are at dice at home ; 
You'll be deceiv'd, and therefore will dispraise, 
And say, this is the worst of all the plays 
You ever saw ; but keep your censures, pray, 
Until you meet them here another day. 
Our poet is not confident, nor doth 
Distrust his work, but labours 'twixt them both. 
He hopes it will be lik'd, and well ; if not, 
'T can be but hiss'd at worst, and soon forgot. 
* " It is not in our power." — 1st ed. 



DKAMATIS PERSONS. 

Polidacre, An old Lord. 

Philander, His Son. 

Carionil, . A young Lord ; the counterfeit Negro, and 

called Tucapelo. 

Falorus, . His Friend. 

Lorece, . A fantastic Gallant, his Brother. 

Phyginois, Called Dracuiemion. 

Jaques, . An old simple Serving-man of Vandona. 



Servants. Maskers. 



Bosinda, . Polidacre's Wife, called Tandorix. 

Lucora, . The Obstinate Lady, her Daughter. 

Cleanthe, Her Sister, called Anclethe. 

Vandona, . A young rich Widow. 

Antiphila, A fine young Lady. 

Nentis, . Lncords woman, Vandona 's Sister. 



The Scene — 
LONDON. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY 

A COMEDY. 



Act i. — Scene l 
Enter Carionil and Falorus. 

Fal. She has outgone my belief by 't. 
I did not think that project would have failed : 
I cannot speak her ! 

Car. The Alpian snow is not more cold. 

Fal. Her disposition is most strange. 

Car. 'Twere easier far 

To spurn the sultry Cyclops' anvil down, 
And kick it thus int' atoms in the air, 
Than to obtain her love : 
It were, my dear Falorus ! 

Fal. think not so, Carionil ! 

Car. Have I not cause 1 

Fal. At last, after a constant and a brave pursuit, 
She may be won. 

Car. Could I but hope so much, 

Did all the stars' malignant influences'"" 
Threaten fate opposite to my happiness, 
I would not deem them worthy my observance, 
But persevere till I obtain'd, or fell.f 

Fal. Conjecture still the best. 

Car. 'Tis easier to advise than to perform. 
Had you, Falorus, been so oft dismiss'd 

* " Did all the storms, malignant influences." — 1st ed. 
f "Felt."— Ibid. 



24 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Comfortless, scornfully sent away 
By her own lips — heavens ! you could not think 
it! 

Fal. I could and would. 

Car. With hope, friend 1 

Fal. Yes ; with an assurance. 

Car. Upon what ground would you build it 1 

Fal Upon a woman's frequent dissimulation. 
Can you "believe, when envious clouds deprive 
Your eyes from the sun's beams,* that it shines not 1 
In these times, young ladies for a while 
Do mantle their affections in dislike ! 
Let not an ignorance of virgins' wiles 
Disturb your noble breast with weak despair : 
Carionil, assume a confidence ! 
Were you inferior unto her in blood, 
Or any whit deform'd, after her nays 
You might suspect the period, but seeing 
"lis known, as noble blood runs through t your 

veins, 
And that nature compos'd you in a mould 
As excellent as she was formed in, and 
With substance of as beauteous a gloss, 
You need not let doubts puzzle you. 

Enter above Lucora and Nentis. 

Car. Stay and admire with me ! Exalt your eyes 
To happiness ! 

Fal. Your mistress and her woman, my Carionil ! 

Car. Lucora ! She's a transcendent of epithets ! 

Fal. I see a lute ! Let us escape their sight, 
And it is likely we shall hear her sing ! 

Luc. Now give it me ! Is it in tune 1 

Nen. Yes, madam ! 

Car. Forbear awhile to play upon the spheres, 
Ye servants to the deities ! The gods 
Will blame you, if your music keep the air 
Of her all-ravishing harmony from their ears ! 

* " Sunbeams." — 1st ed. f " In." — Ibid. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 25 

A SONG. 



Sweet Diana ! virtuous queen ! 

By heaven's edict guide of night, 
That dost affect the meadows green, 
And dost in fresh-leaved woods delight ! 
Like to thy nymphs, suffer me 
To consecrate myself to thee. 

II. 

Thou that for lust didst transform 

Eash Actseon to a hart ! 
Either most strongly maidens charm, 
That men may never them divert 
From purity, or else make 
Them other harts for virgins' sake ! 

Car. How ! — A vot'ress to Diana 1 
The heavens forbid that injury to earth ! 
Had the deceitful Syrens such a voice, 
And bodies of so rare a form, I would 
Ne'er come on shipboard, for fear of being drawn 
To drown myself by swimming after them. 

Nen. I do not like her, madam. 

Luc. Who ever spoke ill of Daphne 1 Fie ! 
Banish such impious censures from you ! 

Nen. Troth, madam, I should have been glad to 'a * 
been my Lady Apollo ! 

Luc. Oh, relish more of purity, Nentis ! Alas ! 'tis 
a frail comfort can come with a husband. 

Nen. I think otherwise indeed, madam. 

Luc. Be all such thoughts remote from my breast ! 
My resolution shall be never t to marry ! [Exeunt 

Car. Now you have heard her thoughts, Falorus. 

Fal. That she disguises not her love, you mean % 

Car. True ; and I am most miserable. 

Fal. My happy friend you will be. 

* " To h' been."— 1st ed. 

f " Shall never stand to marry." — Ibid. 



26 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

'Tis an ignorant, common custom among young ones 
to do so. 

Car. But she's a fixed star, and cannot move. 

Fal. Fixed in your heart, 'tis likely ; 
But otherwise, I doubt, nor do you. 

Car. Y'ave stirred a feeble belief within me, friend, 
That the excellent Lucora may be won, 
And I will nourish it unto some heighth. 

Fal. A necessary that none must want which do 
Desire fruition of those whom they woo ! 

Enter Jaques. 

Car. 0, honest Jaques ! 

Jaq. My lady presents her service to your lordship. 

Car. She is in health, I hope? 

Jaq. Yery well. And I am glad to see your honour 
so, though I say it. 

Car. She is not towards another husband yet % 

Jaq. No, certainly. 

Car. Methinks her fortunes should give her a vari- 
ous choice. You are elsewhere employed, I perceive. 
Remember my best respects unto your lady. 

[Exit Jaques. 
Y'ave heard of my cousin Yandona, Falorus 1 

Fal. But very little. 

Car. She's the most fantastic piece of womankind I 
e'er chang'd breath with ; but a young one, wealthy, 
and truly not unhandsome. 

Fal. Lorece does intend to make love to her. 

Car. Your brother, my Falorus 1 

Fal. Yes ; so he told me. 

Car. May he obtain her if you wish'd 1 

Fal. Her estate would make the match a good one. 

Enter Cleanthe. 

Is this the boy you so commended to me 1 

Car. 'Tis he ; and think you him worthy the praise 

I gave him 1 

Cle. He'll come and wait upon you at night, my 

lord. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 27 

Car. 'Tis well, Anclethe ! 

Fal. You spoke him not unto his merits. 

Car. You are beholden to my friend, Anclethe ! 

Enter a Page.* 

Fal. Your lord's in health 1 

Page. And desires to speak with your lordship. 

Fal. Where may I find him 1 

Page. He'll be at his lodgings these two hours. 

Fal. I'll wait upon him presently. 
I am his servant ! [Exit Page. 

Carionil, I must take my leave ! 

Car. The gods go with you ! He may be my father- 
in-law, but will not if he can prevent it. Adieu, 
friend ! [Exit Falorus. 

0, my Anclethe ! thou canst not guess the world 
of torments I nourish here. I cannot number them 
myself; and, because I cannot, I fear the gods will not. 

Cle. What can you ail, my lord % 

Car. Canst thou imagine me free from misery % 

Cle. Indeed I did ! 

Car. No, there's a lady — she's above all ladies, 
And, were she pitiful, I would swear, a goddess — 
That does deny me happiness ! 
As thou hast me, Idalian archer, so 
On her use thy eternal stringed bow ; 
Draw to the head thy shaft, and let it fly ! 
For love, but love, there is no remedy. 

[Exit Carionil. 

Cle. Wretched Cleanthe ! to what a multitude 
Of woeful sighs my destinies have drawn me ! 
Could all the tears that I abundantly have wept 
But find that recompense I dare not look for, 
they were showers to be belov'd, like those 
That deck the spring with bravery. Carionil, 
For whom I languish in disguise, it seems 
Hath settled his affections on a lady 
Does not return his love. May she continue 
Obstinate ever ! But I must blame her judgment : 
* Called, in the first edition, Tandorix. 



28 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Who can behold a man, with all the art 
Of nature, fram'd to curiosity, 
And hear the world report his virtues equal 
Unto his form, and not admire and love him 1 

Enter Lorece. 

Lor. Now, my young sweet face ! what pretty foolish 
whimsies trouble thy pate that thou lookest so com- 
posedly 1 

Cle. Sir, I am as I use to be. 

Lor. Then you use to be scurvy 1 Use the tavern 
once or twice a day. You must not be so maidenly ! 

Cle. It best becomes me. 

Lor. Canst thou swear 1 

Cle. The gods forbid ! 

Lor. Canst thou sing 1 

Cle. Not worth your hearing, sir. 

Lor. Say'st thou so 1 Then I will some things worth 
thine ! 



Of six-shillings beer I care not to hear — 
A barrel's not worth a carrot. 

I, as others, think that there is no drink 
Like unto sack, white wine, and claret ! 



II. 

Diana's a fool, and me shall not rule 

To live a bachelor ever ; 
For I mean not to tarry in her livery, but marry, 

And quickly, believe me, or never ! 



in. 

And I and my wife will lead such a life, 
As she shall think well befell her ; 

For throughout the year, we'll tipple March beer, 
And seldom be out of the cellar. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 29 



IV. 



All Stoical prate and Diana I hate, 

With her maidenly scurvy advices ! 

Green sickness upon her — sweet Yenus I honour, 
For wenches and wine are not vices ! 

v. 

Would Bacchus, the knave, had met with this brave 

Diana, this whey-blooded lady ! 
For the credit o' th' grape, he had made a rape, 

And got a puissant baby ! 

Cle. Y* are not melancholy, sir ; your brother is 
more solemn. 

Lor. I melancholy? I scorn it, boy ! And yet I'm 
not so merry as I was wont. The young gunner, Mr. 
Cupid, has somewhat tam'd me ; but I am good mettle 
still, thank my jovial fates, and will sound melodiously, 
my young Paris ! 

Enter Jaques. 

Welcome to Hercules, noble Theseus ! Good boy, go 
wait on thy master ! [Exit Cleanthe. 

How dost thou, old magazine of precious knavery 1 

Jaq. I am glad to see your worship well ! 

Lor. My noble milliner* of words! thou that dost 
grind thy speeches with a merry pronunciation, wilt 
be my bosom, my cabinet, my friend, Jaques 1 

Jaq. I will obey your good worship. 

Lor. Liberally spoken ! When I have opened me, 
will you be privy 1 

Jaq. Very secret and officious ! It is good manners 
in me. Your command shall wedge my tongue, hedge 
my heart, and tie a true-lover's-knot upon it with the 
strings of it. 

Lor. Thou art an honest clod of earth, Jaques ! 'Tis 
great pity the malicious sunshine warm'd thee not into 
a diamond ! 

* " Milner" in first edition, signifying a miller. 



30 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Jaq. Your worship speaks above my brains. 

Lor. I am marvellously enamour'd on your lady, 
Jaques. Yandona is my mistress ! 

Jaq. Wonderful news ! Is my lady your worship's 
sweetheart ? 

Lor. Yes ! but ignorant of my affection yet. 

Jaq. I would be drunk were you my master, sir ! 

Lor. I would have a wine-cellar o' th' purpose. My 
estate, Jaques, is but mean — it must be craft must 
get her. Knowest thou any possible way to win her 1 ? 

Jaq. Sir, I am passing empty of invention, but 
wherein I can pleasure you, tell me at any time, and 
I will not fail you. But the gods bless your good 
worship ! Sir, would you marry her 1 

Lor. Yes, my old trusty Pirithous ! Why dost 
wonder at it ? 

Jaq. She does nothing all day but read little 
comedies, and every night spends two or three hours 
on a great tragedy of a merry fellow, Dametas, and a 
company of strange-named learned lovers. She's no 
more housewife than you or I, sir — on my own proper 
knowledge, I swear, vow, and protest ! 

Lor. Thou art too earnest, my old-faced Saturn ! I 
think her not the worse woman. Housewifery is the 
superficies of a genteel female, and the parenthesis of 
a lady, which may well be left out. 

Jaq. You are a scholar • your bookship shall direct 
me. 

Enter Phyginois. 

Lor. Who's that ? Knowest thou him, Jaques 1 
He walks corantoly,* and looks big ! 

Jaq. And like your worship, this tide first brought 
him to my eyes. 

Lor. He came not by water, did he, old boy 1 

Jaq. I meant Time, sir, the London word. 

Phyg. When we this passion into us receive, 
Our former pleasures we do loath and abandon :t 

* Trippingly, as though dancing. 

f Phyginois, in first edition, goes on with the text, which, down 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 31 

Jaq. Leave, by your leave ! 

Phyg. If it were foolishness in us to take 
Affection, why did heaven two sexes compose 1 

Jaq. Make would make rhyme ! 

Phyg. Why period to the Phoenix doth fire give, 
But because it doth against nature consist 1 

Jaq. Live, he should say. This is some very small 
poet. 

Phyg. I'll on, and am resolved to prefer 
My life to be a service unto her ! 

Lor. What an affected utterance has this fellow ! 

Jaq. He'll ne'er make good ballad, warrant him, 
that will not rhyme when he may. 

Lor. The catastrophe was in rhyme, though. He 
would be lik'd for a stage poet. 

Phyg. Noble heroes ! the gods extend your fortunes 
to your thoughts ! 

Lor. An academical idiom ! Enquire his name, 
Jaques ! He delivers his mind after the garb of a 
signor. 

Jaq. Have you a name, friend 1 

Phyg. I answer to Dracumelion ! 

Jaq. Good sir, let's trudge hence ; this is some great 
conjuror ! 

Lor. Are you a necromancer % 

Jaq. Mr. Lorece, I fear he is some Saracen ! he looks 
so dismal ! 

Lor. Art thou a Paynim % Speak ! 

Jaq. For all your great looks, Termegant is an idol ! 

Phyg. I am nor one nor other, but your honour's 
vassal, and a poor Englishman. Wilt please you to 
hear the music of Helicon 1 

Jaq. Law you now, sir ; how one may be deceiv'd ! 
I believe this whorson is a fiddler ! Can you sing, 
sirrah 1 Answer me ! 

Phyg. I am no fiddler, but live by my tongue and 

to " service unto her," is here put into dialogue ; and the text 
runs thus : "If it were foolishness for us to take affection, why- 
did Heaven two sexes compose ? — why period to the Phoenix doth 
fire give? — but because it doth against nature consist. He one 
and the same resolved to prefer my life to be a service unto her." 



32 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

legs. Will you hear me, noble sir, speak a Parnassian 
oration, or see me measure the ground with a dance % 

Lor. What sayest thou, Jaques ? 

Jaq. Why, now, sir, 'tis dinner-time with my lady, 
and I dare not neglect her, neither will I my own 
stomach ; and therefore, for me, he may show us a fair 
pair of heels, and be gone ! 

Lor. Well, then, — spend this for me. 

Phyg. Y' are, sir, the best part of a moralist. You 
are most liberal ! 

Lor. Come, Jaques ! 

Jaq. I follow you, sir. Farewell, good man, Pra- 
culemen ! The gods bless me, there's a name ! 

[Exeunt. 

Phyg. Proceed, Phyginois, and be fortunate ! 
This project will furnish me with money to clothe me 
both fashionably and rich enough, and then 
I dare assail my Nentis with some confidence — 
Politic lovers seldom miss. 
Smile, heaven, upon my plot, that there may be 
A crowned period to my policy ! [Exit. 



Scene ii. 
Enter Polidacre and Falorus. 

Pol How do you like Lucora ? 

Fal. She's a lady above my thoughts, much more 
my tongue ! 

Pol. Could not you wish her yours 1 I have a de- 
sire to make her so. 

Fal. Ambrosia, Hebe's cates, are for the gods ! 
Princes she doth deserve to woo her love. 
You undervalue her, my lord ! 

Pol. The best is not too good for him that gets her. 
Your breeding has been worthy your descent ; 
I've known you from your infancy, and am 
Desirous to make you mine. 

Fal He enforceth me to an acceptance — I must 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 33 

temporize with him. Most worthy Polidacre, I cannot 
attain to a greater happiness on earth than to bear the 
name of your son-in-law. 

Pol. I thank thee, my Falorus ! I'll go presently 
and get my daughter's consent. As you shall not 
want beauty with her, so you shall not money ! I'll 
take my leave. 
-r Fal. I am your most humble servant ! 

[Exit Polidacre. 
What envious star when I was born divin'd 
This adverse Fate 1 Who, having such a beauty 
Proffer'd him, would refuse it 1 The pin'd man, 
Whom poets' fantasies have plac'd in hell 
With fruit before him, had not such a cross ! 
The true regard I bear unto my friend, 
The brave Carionil, must not be slighted. 
The sacred truth of friendship ever should 
By force enfeeble all rebellious blood ! 

Enter Carionil. 

Well met, my dear Carionil ! 

Car. I am happy in your company. Y' are my 
heart's best treasury, Falorus ! 

Enter Lucora and Nentis. 

But give me leave, my friend. 

Fal. ! I see the cause — your mistress ! 

Car. Eetire, ye clouds, and weep out showers of woe, 
Because ye may no longer stand and gaze 
On her for whom the heavens their circuits go, 
That they may see and wonder at her face ! 
Dear Falorus, withdraw yourself awhile. 

Fal. The gods assist your suit ! 

Car. Thanks, worthy friend ! [He withdraws. 

Hail ! nature's most perfect work, and the continual 
idea of my admiring soul, for whom, if 't be your will, 
I must die, and by whom, if it is your dear pleasure, I 
shall live, — live in an unspeakable felicity by enjoying 
you, die happily for wanting you ; and cannot live in 
such a penury. 



34 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Nen. Would I had such a servant ! I should not 
serve him scurvily. 

Car. Honour your poor adorer, lady, with a gracious 
look of your beloved eyes, and my misery for you 
both with commiseration and remedy ! 

Luc. My lord, if you presume upon a woman's 
Feign'd carriage to her wooers, leave it now ! 
For, if you'll give me leave, I'll call to witness 
Every particular deity we adore : 
That I will never have a husband ! And 
For your saying you must die for me, I hold it 
A common compliment of idle lovers, 
And wish you so much happiness, that you 
May live well without me ! 

Car. 0, be not so unmerciful ! 
Let not that tongue err into virulent words, 
Which could have call'd Eurydice from hell. 
Had your most excellent mother, fairest lady, 
Inexorable been, you had not been ; 
Nor crimson roses ever spread upon 
Your lovely cheeks, nor had the world discover'd 
Two planets more. Hath nature liberally 
Heaped the rarest perfections she could give 
Mortality upon you to no end 1 
No, surely ; nor can I believe that she 
Meant to enclose a mind infractible 
Within a body so powerful to subdue. 
As you, even your dear self, was daughter to 
A beauteous mother, so you also should 
Indebt the world unto you by your issue ! 
Be not so cruel therefore, dear Lucora ; 
Let not your tongue degenerate from your form. 

Luc. Sir, you have heard me speak what I intend. 

Car. Be not a tigress, lady ! 

Luc. Anything but a wife ! 

Sir, I must leave you, and leave you this humour ; 
The Court hath many ladies, take your choice. — Nentis ! 

Nen. Madam ! 

Luc. Come ! My lord, take my counsel. 

Nen. I could use him kindlier. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 35 

Car. What say you, lady 1 

Nen. Nothing, my lord. [Exeunt Lucoba and Nentis. 

Car. Doth a fair face presage a cruel heart % 
Is't not a mere* full contrary in nature 
That the softest body should be hard'st to win 1 
Nature is grown decrepit, and all things 
Sublunary err against the rule of order. 
Stir not, then, thou glorious fabric of the heavens, 
And periodize the music of the spheres ! 
Thou even yet fast fixed globe of earth, 
Whirl round in a perpetual motion ! 
Ye stars and moon, that beautify the night, 
Change rule with clear Hyperion, and so cast 
Succeeding time into another mould ! 
Then, with thy powerful beams, Apollo, draw 
The ocean into clouds, and drown the world ; 
So there a new creation may befal, 
And this life be a life celestial. 

Enter FALORUS. 

all my happiness on earth, my true Falorus ! 
Lucora's beauty triumphs in my breast, 
And shortly will destroy me. There's no beast 
That haunts the vast Arabian wilderness 
Of such a merciless constitution. 
She'll never marry man ! 

Fal. She will, Carionil. Her father would have 
her, and she has not so much evil as to contradict his 
will. Where, then, can she make such a choice as 
you ? That, in a duel, your grandfather did kill hers, 
y've heard her oft protest she values not. 

Car. Does he desire it, or does your love flatter me 
into a little possibility of obtaining her 1 Alas ! if she 
could like me, her father would very difficultly con- 
sent. He loves not my family. 

Fal. Polidacre could not hinder you, were she willing. 
But, friend, her father means to marry her. His own 
lips offer'd her to me. 

Car. ye just heavenly powers ! then I am lost, 
* This only. 



36 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Sunk into misery beneath a spark 
Of this life's happiness ! 
Falorus, you shall not have her ! 

Fal. I would not wrong my noble friend so much. 

Car. A puff of wind, and gone ! For her, who 
would not 
Do all mankind an injury, and out-act 
In horrid deed all those that e'er profess'd 
Licentious Atheism ? Unsheath your sword ; 
I will not take that life basely away 
Which next unto Lucora's I esteem. 
Yet stay ! 

Fal. He's frantic ! Withdraw this frenzy, ye gods ! 

Car. You are my friend 1 

Fal. I have been so accounted of by you. 

Car. Let me consult it out. Shall one word, — 
Nay, which is less, one syllable, — friend, extract 
Out of me all the interest that I 
Have to Lucora by affecting her 1 
But this is a false medium : a true friend 
Exceeds all syllables and words at height. 
A man may — nay, he should — poise equally 
His love, and part unto his friend the justice of it, 
Which is the full half ; so that it appears 
They should be lov'd by's as we love ourselves. 
But to a mistress who would not give more 1 
Who can choose to give more ? The love that we 
Bear to a friend, it is an accident, a meet one ; 
But 'tis our nature to affect a woman. 
And 'tis a glory to preserve a mistress 
Entire to one's self, without competitors. 
My reason's satisfied. No friendship can 
Keep in the sword of any rivall'd man. 

Fal. Collect yourself, Carionil. 

Car. You'll fight with me 1 

Fal. I do not wear a weapon for such a quarrel. 

Car. What, more affliction yet ! 'Tis against man- 
hood — 
A most ignoble murder — to take his life 
Who makes no opposition. And yet, if death 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 37 

Prevent him not, she will be his. Sad fates ! 
You shall not have Lucora ! 

Fal. You wrong our amity by this suspicion. 
I swear I will not ! 

Car. How 1 

Fal. Consider, dear Carionil. I grieve 
To see my friend so over-passionate ; 
It is a weakness in you to be a pitied one. 

Car. My love o'ersway'd my reason. Pardon me, 
My best Falorus ! I believe your virtue 
Would not act such an injury against 
Your own Carionil ! 

Fal. Shall we walk, and I'll tell you all that passed 
'Twixt me and Polidacre 1 

Car. I am a thousand ways obliged yours. 

Fal. You are my Carionil. I wish no more 
From you than perpetuity of love, 
And that our hearts may never be untied. 

Car. You are too worthy for my friendship. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene hi. 

Enter Antiphila sola, reading. 

" Fair Antiphila hath hair 
Would grace the Paphian queen to wear ; 
Fit to tune heaven's lute withal, 
When the gods for music call ; 
Fit to make a veil to hide 
Aurora's blush each morning tide ; 
Fit to compose a crafty gin 
To take the hearts of lookers in ; 
Able to make the stubborn kind, 
And, who dislike it, t' be judged blind. 
Though it is soft and fine, it ties 
My heart that it in fetters lies." 

It is a neat I know not what — I have not poetry 
enough in me to give it a name. These lovers are the 



38 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

prettiest fools, I think, in the world; and 'twere 
not for them, I cannot tell what we women should 
do. We desire nothing more than to be praised, and 
their love to us will do it beyond our wishes. I gave 
Phylander, upon his long importunity, a lock of hair 
and see into what a vein it has put him ! I'm sorry 
he had it not a week sooner ; I should then, perhaps, 
ha' had a sonnet-book ere this. 'Tis pity wit should lie 
obscurely within any, that a lock will give it vent. I 
love him not ; I should rather choose his father, who is 
as earnest a suitor to me as he. Yet I know, because 
of his age, very few ladies would be of my mind ; but 
as yet I care for neither of them. 

Enter Phylander. 

Now I must expect an assault. 'Tis in's ear already. 
He's very fine. 

Phyl. My dear Antiphila, you have received 

Anti. Your verses, sir 1 I have. 

Phyl. I am your true adorer for them, lady. 
Would your white hand had done me the honour it 
did them ! 

Anti In what, sir 1 You must explain. 

Phyl. That a touch of your skin might have ravish'd 
me into happiness. 

Anti. The lock has alter'd your discourse. I would 
it had shut your mouth. 

Phyl. There's no need of that, excellent Antiphila. 
I would rather deprive myself of my tongue than that 
any word of mine should be offensive unto you. 

Anti You relish too much of the court. 

Phyl. Polite words can never misbecome a speaker 
who hath such a subject. 

Anti. Am I your subject? — You have called me 
mistress ! 

Phyl. You are my saint, lady, and I must pray to you. 

Anti Saints hear no prayers, some say. 

Phyl. Pray you show otherwise, by granting mine.* 

* In place of this, Phylander, in first edition, merely says, " I 
am a petitioner." 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 39 

Anti. Have you any more papers ] 

Phyl. My mouth shall speak mine own errand. 

Anti. You must pardon me now, sir ;* I must leave 
you. [Exit Antiphila. 

Phyl. She yet is obstinate ; but I am free 
From doubt she will continue in that way. 
There is no cause of fears in f women's nays, 
For none of that sex means the thing she says. 

Enter Kosinda. 

Now, Tandorix, where's my father % 

Eos. Faith, I know not, sir. 

Phyl. You are one of the melancholiest servants he 
keeps. 

Bos. It pleases you to say so, sir. 

Phyl. They all report so of you. 

Eos. I cannot tell, sir. 

Phyl. Y' are over lonely ; be merrier ! You should 
put yourself into more company ; you should, Tandorix. 
I respect you for my mother's sake, for whose last sad 
letter you were entertained here. 

Eos. I thank you, sir, for your kindness. 

Phil. Farewell, Tandorix ! [Exit. 

Eos. My son perceives my sadness ; but the cause 
Deserves it fully. 'Tis now above a year 
Since I did write that I did drown myself, 
And bare the paper to my husband when 
I thought his memory was somewhat lost, 
And I inur'd unto this habit, drawn 
To 't by a fond desire to know if he 
Would keep his promise to me, which with oaths 
He oft hath made, that never, if he should 
Survive me, he would take another wife ; 
But he, as other men, esteems no more 
Of perjury than common breath. 'Twere fit 
That husbands' vows upon the sands were writ. [Exit, 

* "He will not be kept from it else. Yon must pardon me,, 
sir." — Id ed. 

t ' ' Fear for. ' '—lb id. 






±0 the obstinate lady. 

Act ii. — Scene i. 
Enter Lorece and Jaques. 

Lor. I am beholding to thee, Jaques ! 

Jaq. I will be dutiful to your worship. 

Lor. I should be glad to cope with your lady, now 
methinks I am of a prompter expression than usual : 
lovers and the muses are cater-cousins. 

Enter Vandona. 

My Vandona, Jaques S 

Jaq. I must vanish like a mist. [Exit. 

Lor. Farewell, grave Titan 1 
I'll out with a poetical soliloquy in her hearing for 

my preludium. 
The gaudy stars are not more full of glee 
When golden Phoebus setteth in the west, 
Nor do the cheerful birds with more delight 
Rejoice at the new livery of the spring, 
Than I to have this miracle of beauty 
Enter within the knowledge of mine eyes ! 

Van. He speaks well : I would he meant earnest. 
The gentleman seems very deserving, but he is some- 
thing wild. 

Lor. She shall be stoutly accosted. Impudency is 
a very happy quality in a wooer. 

Van. H' comes ! 

Lor. Lady, you are not a puny in the court of 
Cupid, and therefore, I hope, need not the tedious 
circumstances of an annual service. I am bold to tell 
you plainly I love you, and if I find occasion. I will 
maintain it boldly. 

Van. I pray you, Mr. Lorece, desist. 

Lor. Never, my sweet Vandona ! My descent, I know, 
you doubt not, and my affection you need not. Whilst 
I live I shall love you, and if you die, your memory. 

Van. I shall be catch' d ! We widows are glass 
metal, soon broke. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 41 

Lor. I can do no more, lady, and I will do no less. 

Van. Your habit, carriage, and discourse, sir, show 
you a traveller. 

Lor. My boldness, she means. Sweetest Vandona, 
I have been one. The habits, conditions, and situa- 
tions of many great kingdoms I have exactly gathered 
into my table-books ; and also my fortnight's observa- 
tion of the Antipodes. 

■Van. Oh, strange ! have you been there 1 I wonder 
how you came thither ! 

Lor. I will tell you, lady. When 1 was bound 
thither, I was in Asia, at Tlaxcallan ; there we took 
ship, and in a pair of oars sailed to Madrid, the Catholic 
King's court. From thence to Naples, in Savoy ; from 
Naples to Crema ; and thence to Alexandria, where, 
against a tree, we suffered shipwreck. Into a new 
phalake we therefore got us, which was rigg'd for 
Frankfort, where shortly after we arrived, victuall'd 
our gondola, and threw away our fresh water. 

Van. 'Tis a great way thither. 

Lor. Thence we went to Lisbon, and after to 
Mantua; and the next morning we came to the 
Antipodes, at twilight i' th' afternoon. 

Van. What sights saw you there, sir 1 

Lor. So many sights, dear lady, that they almost 
made me blind. 

Van. Relate a few ! 

Lor. First, lady, the King is no man. 

Van. I believe you, sir, for it never could enter my 
mind that any man inhabited there. 

Lor. There they have no houses but the Emperor's 
palace, where Sir Francis Drake was entertain'd 
after he had shot the Pyrensean Gulf, upon the Medi- 
terranean Mount, in Russia. 

Van. Where, then, lies all the court, I wonder 1 

Lor. In the court, mistress. 

Van. I guess, hem ! but cold lodgings. 

Lor. Your ladyship is mistook — they are never a 
cold ; for the sun, being never above an hundred de- 
grees above Saturn, makes that climate as hot as 



42 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Norway. They at the Antipodes hear with their 
noses, smell with their ears, see by feeling, but taste 
with all their senses, — for they are the most insatiable 
gluttons under the cope, — and feel not anything, for 
they cannot be hurt. 

Van. This is wonderful ; and I cannot imagine how 
their senses can be so contrary to ours. 

Lor. No ! Did you never hear, excellent Vandona, 
that they are opposite to us ? 

Van. yes ! I have indeed. 

Lor. I will how tell you, madam, somewhat of the 
South Indies. 

Van. Has not the Mogul of Persia his bread thence 1 

Lor. The King of Spain hath his gold there, of 
which the Hollanders took a great prize when they 
won the silver fleet. 

Van. How was I mistook ! 

Lor. I will give you the situation of the country. 
Some of the ancient geographers, — as Heliodorus, the 
knight of the sun, Amadis de Gaul, and Palmerin 
d' Oliva, — affirm it to lie a thousand Italian miles 
from Isthmos at Corinth ; but some modern writers, 
— as Don Quixote, Parismus, Montelion, and Merlin, 
— say it is a peninsula in Arabia Felix, where 
the phoenix is. But learned Hollinshed affirms the 
South Indias are separated from Armenia by the 
Caledonian Forest, from Asia Minor by the Venetian 
Gulf, and from China by a great brick wall. There, 
instead of cherry-stones, children play with pearls ; 
and for glass, the windows are of broad diamonds. 
Hunters there have no horns but the unicorn's ; no 
water runs there but Aganippe, Hippocrene, Scaman- 
der, and Simois. There are no hills but Olympus, 
Ida, and Parnassus ; no valley but Tempe [of Ascia 
and Margiana] ;* no men but of the offspring of Scipio 
African, Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Hector, 
Hannibal, and Hercules ! 

Van. It is a pleasant country, f 

* Not in first edition. 

f " It is a pleasant country then, and nobly peopled." — 1st ed. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 43 

Lor. I will now tell you of the conditions of our 
neighbour nations. The Spaniards are humble, the 
Italians chaste, the French peaceful, the Dutch sober, 
and the Irish cleanly. I came at last to Virginia, 
where I saw nothing more worthy mention than an 
honest woman who cast herself into the sea because 
nobody would lie with her. In conclusion, at James 
Town Port I took horse, and the next morning, after 
a long and tedious journey, arrived in Wales. 

Van. And what did you there, Mr. Lorece 1 

Lor. As soon as I could, I went to Merlin s Cave, 
which is obscurely situated on the top of a beech, 
where all the night he lay on the ground. 

Van. What was he, sir 1 

Lor. He was an intricate prognosticate!' of firma- 
mental eclipses, and vaticinated future occurrents by 
the mysterious influences of the sublime stars and 
vagabondical planets ; generated he was by the in- 
human conjunction of an incubus ; and was immur'd 
alive in a cave by the pre-eminent magic of the Lady 
of the Lake. 

Van. You frequent plays, do you not ? 

Lor. They are most commonly my afternoon's 
employment. 

Van. I like him the better for it. [Aside. 

And you have read many histories 1 

Lor. Many, lady ! I am a worm in a book : I go 
through them. 

Van. This pleases me too. [Aside. 

Farewell, sir ! 

Lor. Admired Philoclea, leave me not so ! 

Van. What would you have 1 

Lor. Your consent, lady. 

Van. Expect that a month or two hence. 

Lor. Dear Yandona ! sweet mistress ! 

Van. Indeed you must. 

Lor. Nay, sweet Oxiana ! 

Van. Y'are too importunate ! 

Lor. Excellent Claridiana, Polinarda, Laurana, 
Bradamant ! [Exit Yandona^ 



44 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

It makes no matter, I am sure to have her. How 

some women are taken with strange tales ! 
Next time we meet I do not doubt to get her : 
Hercules could not woo a lady better. 

Enter Jaques. 

Now, my old Anchises ! how dost, truepenny % Be 
merry, Jaques ! 

Jaq. Is she tender-hearted 1 

Lor. Eespectful and pliant. 

Jaq. Good truth, I am glad on't, sir. My lady, 
though I say it, is of a very good nature ; my mind 
always gave me she would be coming on. I beseech 
your worship to be a good * master to me. 

Lor. Thou shalt find me so. [Exeunt. 



Scene i i. 

Enter Cleanthe, sola. 

Cle. Imperious love, that hatest whom thou 
woundest, 
And those thou lovest best dost let alone ! 
If my obsequious duty unto thee 
Can move thee to commiseration, 
Instruct me how to win him, and, when I 
Disclose myself, assist a wretched woman, 
For it is in thy power to work my bliss. 
He dotes upon a lady that regards 
None of those miseries he undergoes 
By languishing for her. With one fair stroke 
Thy ignominy redeem ! thou art call'd blind 
Because how thou dost shoot thou dost not mind. 
But what avails it me thus to implore, 
Or rather to reiterate those deep wishes 1 
Millions of hours can witness I have said, 
And yet find no help ! Ah ! dear and ever 
Most lovd Carionil, would'st thou wert so 
* "Loving." — 1st ed. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 45 

Strongly inflam'd as I, or didst conceive, 

Truly didst know, what misery lies here ! 

I think, though thou hadst sucked a ravenous wolf, 

It would overcome thy nature, and thereby 

Transform my sorrow to felicity ! 

Enter Carionil. 

Car. I cannot hope a letter I have writ 
To my Lucora can find that acceptance 
And bring so good success I wish it may. 
Sure never man so passionately ador'd 
A lady of so froward a disposition. 
If I could know the cause she is unkind, 
I would destroy it, or destroy myself. 
Anclethe ! art thou there, my boy ? Alas ! 
Why dost thou weep 1 * 

Cle. To see the sorrow you are always in, 
And not to know wherefore. Though I, sir, am 
Both young and little, I both dare and would 
Venture my life to do you any service 
That may redeem your happy days again ! 

Car. Alas ! poor boy, it is past thy redress ; 
Yet I do thank thee for thy love unto me. 

Enter Eosinda. 

Cle. My lord, a servant of my Lord Polidacre's ! 

Car. Tandorix ! What news 1 

Bos. The lady Lucora commanded me to deliver 
this paper to you. 

Car. 'Tis most welcome ; would my heart could 
read it ! 

Bos. I wish he had my daughter, for he's a most 
noble gentleman. [Aside. 

My lord ! command you me any service ? 

Car. Only my dear respects unto the lady that sent 
you. 

Bos. Farewell, Anclethe ! [Exit Rosinda. 

* " "What are those tears for 

Thou dost weep away ? " — 1st ed. 



46 the obstinate lady. 

The Letter. 

Car. "Sir, — I am sorry that, against my use, I 
cannot answer you more civilly ; but I am blameless, 
the fault being in your foolish passion, and not my 
desire. If in fairer terms you should receive my 
reply, I am sure you would think it some beginning 
of love to you ; according to your desire I have none, 
and I wish your love was such as mine, so we might 
be friends. Yet I love you as a gentleman of my 
acquaintance ; but if any more you trouble me with 
letters or courting, I will hate you. So I end. — Her 
own, Lucora." 

" Her own Lucora ! " I cannot now conceive 

This lady of a humane nature. Sure, 

A woman cannot have so harsh a mind. 

" So I end ! " What ! will she end so always 1 

Oh, then, that I might end even now ! that all 

The sorrow that possesseth my whole body 

In every member would mutiny against 

My heart, that so I might die speedily ! 

Is it not miraculously strange that this 

Poor microcosm, this little body, should 

Contain all the sorrow this great world can 

Inflict upon it, and not sink beneath 

So huge a burthen 1 One hill does overcome 

The struggling of Enceladus, a giant ; 

And yet I stand, I live ! What ! am I of 

Lucora' s temper — impregnable 1 Oh — oh — oh ! 

Cle. Alas, my master ! good my lord, collect 
Your strength, and be not thus effeminate ! 

Car. I'm manly, boy ! for women cannot tell 
What thing affliction is, their stony hearts 
Relent so little at it in their lovers. 
Oh ! I shall never have her ! Now I give 
Liberty to a just despair to rack me ; 
And it must ever do so. What a chaos 
Of misery is an unfortunate lover ! 

Cle. I pray you, sir, put off this vehemency of pas- 
sion. She will relent! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 47 

Car. Never, whilst I live. 

Cle. She will ; indeed, I know she will ! 

Car. Would she would love me after I am dead for 
her ! 
It were some happiness to think that, Anclethe ! 

Cle. I doubt not but she will shortly be yours, my 
lord, 
And weep for joy to hear me make relation 
Of this same violent passion you are in now. 

Car. Thou art a good boy ; but this lady — my 
heart ! 
Could sitting down in Cassiopeia's chair, 
And kicking proud Arctophylax from the sky ; 
Could stopping the Septentrian sevenfold team, 
And putting out the starry eagle's eyes ; 
Could swimming violently up those rocks 
From which the Memphian Nilus tumbles down ; 
Could the compelling of rash Phaeton's sire 
To change his course, and run from north to south ; 
Could the adventuring to undertake 
A journey through Africa's dread' st wilderness 
When the ^Eolians do loudest breathe, 
And veil the sun with sandy mountains' height, 
Enforce her to repent the tragedy — 
By these attempts drawn on me she should find 
What truth of love was in her servant's mind. 

Cle. Keep back his hands, heavens ! from violent 
deeds ; 
Let him not offer injury against 
His own dear life ! 

Car. I have prattled too much, but I ha' done. 
No longer shall my happiness be delayed, 
Nor the displeased destinies any more 
Jeer the sad depth of wretchedness I live in. 

Thus Here I fall her cruel sacrifice ! 

[Stabs himself. 

Cle. Hold ! for heaven's sake, hold ! 

Car. 'Tis too late to prevent. 
Patience, Anclethe ! Commend me to Lucora, 
That angel beauty without angel pity ! 



48 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Tell her my woeful storj^, — how, e'er since 

Thou knew'st me, I have languished for her ; 

That I have spent whole nights in tears and sighs, 

Whole days in solitude, to think of her ; 

That I did suffer her unkindness, while 

I had a dram of patience left within me ! 

Tell her how her most cruel letter rais'd 

A despair higher than my strength, and that 

Under her strange unkindness I am fall'n. 

Weep not, Anclethe ! I am faint — struck dumb ! 

Fly, passionate soul, into Elysium ! [He faints. 

Cle. Oh, my dear lord ! brave young Carionil ! 
I'll wash thy wound with tears, stop it with sighs ! 
Unkindest day that ever wore the sun ! 
Thou art accurs'd, for giving light unto 
His hand to guide it to an act so much 
Beneath manhood. me ! I am undone ! 
What now will my disguise avail me in, 
Foolish sister Lucora % ye heavens ! 
Where lies our difference ? Are we not the same 
By birth on both sides 1 — of one sex 1 Sure, nature 
Degenerates against itself, or this 

Untimely ye gods ! I dare not name it, 

Nor will I believe it. He is alive ! 
So suddenly the world cannot be ruin'd ; 
Which is if he be lost. All virtue gone — 
All valour, piety, and everything 
Mortality can boast of. My lord ! noble 
Carionil ! He doth not hear me. Alas ! 
I am for ever most desolate of women. 
Injurious heart-strings, break ! Why do you tie 
Me to a life millions of degrees more loathsome 
Than the forgetful sepulchre of death 1 
Would, some commiserating benevolent star, 
Which carries fate in 't, would, in pity to 
My misery, take me from it ! For love he 
Lies here this bemoaned spectacle, and shall 
My passion be undervalued 1 Tears, nor sighs, 
Nor dirges sung by me eternally 
Can parallel our loves at full. It must be 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 49 

The same way, and it shall ; the same blade 
Shall be the instrument, and I receive it 
Tragediously here on my knees. Would some 
Kind body would inter us in one tomb ! 
Be firm, my hand, and bold ! 
Fed. Anclethe ! 

Enter Falorus. 
Cle. My lord Carionil calls ! Is 't you % Then- 



Fal. But I must hold you, and bereave your hand. 

Cle. And you may also die : your friend is slain ; 
My lord Carionil is dead, 
The paper in his left hand yet that brought 
His reason into such subjection 
That he even franticly did stab himself. 

Fal. I will extend my life till I have read it. 

[He reads the letter. 
This lady is a rough-blown sea, on which 
His worthy life has foully suffer'd shipwreck ! 
I have her ! Not Mercury pleading in her defence, 
With oratory able to stint Jove's wrath 
When he has bespoke thunderbolts of the Cyclops 
To wreak some injury, should ever win me 
To her bed ! Polidacre, mew her up, 
Like Danae, in a brazen fort, or else 
Make her to answer with her life this murder 
She's accessory to. Proud piece of vanity ! 
I do want words to give my thoughts expression, 
So much I hate her ! Prithee, Anclethe ! pardon 
My injury against thy rest, for holding 
Thee in a life so loath'd as this is to thee. 
I'll lead thee 

Car. Oh— oh! 

Cle. Withhold awhile, my lord ; he groans ! 

Car. Thou art the cause, Lucora, and I must not 
blame thee. 
I struck not that blow right, but this shall do 't ! 
I'm fainter than I guess'd ! I have not enter'd ! 
What ! who has stole the stiletto from me ? 
Boy ! Anclethe ! restore it, as thou lovest me ! 

D 



50 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Fal. Carionil, I joy you are recovered. 

Death is grown courteous, or by this you had 

Been wand'ring in the Elysian groves. 
Car. My friend, Falorus 1 
Fal. Your loyal friend. Give me your hand, and rise. 

I'm glad to see 

Your wound no worse. 'Twas care and willingness 

To die bereft you of your senses. I will show you 

How you may win your mistress. You hear me 1 
Car. I like it well. It may prevail— I hope 

It will. 

Fal. Anclethe had slain himself had I not come. 

Car. Good boy, thou wert too kind. 

Cle. Indeed, my lord ! I never shall desire to survive 

you. 
Car. Divulge my death. 
Cle. I will not fail. 

Fal. Why, my Carionil, would you engage 

So much yourself to any of that sex, 

As for a disrespondency to lay 

Violent hands upon yourself? 

In truth, my friend, I wonder at it ! justly 

You merit more than they can satisfy 

With their endeavours all of them ! 

Car. Proceed not, good Falorus, in this language. 
Fal. What good do women 1 Old Amphitrite's face 

Is not so full of wrinkles as they are 

Of vices. 

Car. No more, as you regard, what always yet 

You have profess'd, our long-continued friendship. 
O women, most admired creatures ! how 
Can the just heavens these speeches so allow ? 
What good do women 1 I do say what ill, 
Who do perform what men can only will % 
Why have we ears, if not to hear the sound 
And sacred harmony their tongues compound 1 
Why have we tears, if not to weep when we 
Do chance a woman's discontent to see 1 
Why have we eyes, if not to look upon 
Their beauties — nature's high perfection ? 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 51 

Why have we tongues, if not to praise them when 
They slander'd * are by railings of ill men 1 
Why have we reason all, if not to deem us 
Happy because some women do esteem us 1 
Fal. You are their worthy champion. What I said 

Was out of passion for Lucora's dealing. 

I will report ye're dead ! 

Car. I shall be obliged unto you by 't. [Exeunt. 



Scene hi. 

Enter Phyginois, solus. 

Phy. My clothes are almost made, and everything 
That does belong unto the habit of 
A gentleman I have prepar'd me richly, 
For in these garments I dare not accost her. 
I had good fortune to come with Cleanthe, 
Who hath been very bountiful unto me. 

Enter Polidacre, Kosinda, Antiphila, Lucora, 

and Nentis. 

Pol. Lady ! I take it very kindly you 
Would do me such an honour as visit me. 
It shall be my study to deserve it. 

Anti. My lord, this is too ceremonious ! 
Pray you, let us walk. 
I much approve of this air ; 
I know no place so sweet about the city. 

Ros. How observant he is ! He would fain make it 
a match ; and I think she is willing enough. But I 
shall prevent them with amazement. 
I will see further in it first. 

Phy. The heavens, worthy gallants ! be serene as 
long as you presume under the safety of them ! 

Pol. Know you this fellow, Tandorix ? 

Bos. His name is Draculemion. 

Pol. ! I have heard of him. 

* " Scandal'd." — 1st ed. 



52 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Nen. His behaviour, madam, is strange. 

Luc. Tis some frantic. 

Pol. What wind brought you hither 1 

Phy. That which, noble sir, shall blow me all over 
the universe to do you service. 

Pol. I thank you for your compliment, for your 
captainly protestation. 

Phy. Brave bevy of gallants ! my purse being mil- 
lions of degrees voider of money than my heart of 
courage, I desire to empty my mouth of words to 
fill up the vacuum of it, if you please to lend me 
your attention, and afterwards to commemorate with 
munificence the worth of my oration. 

Pol. Sweet Antiphila, what say you ? 

Anti. He speaks so strangely, I would fain hear him. 

Pol. Draculemion, you know what to do 1 

Phy. Hail, but fair weather ! I that have been the 
favourite of inconstant fortune, and term'd worthily 
by the worshipful title of a gentleman, am now debas'd 
into an humble fugitive. Commiserate this wonderful 
change, most excellent auditors ! and let your recom- 
pense be a help again to restore me, and a story to 
exalt me towards the fastidium of my pristine felicity, 
and, at your connivance, I will post afoot to Mexico, 
drink your healths till I'm sick, and kill any I hear 
speak irreverently of you. These, and more than these, 
will I accomplish, though to my perpetual ignominy, 
or dissolution of my life, conditionally you will bestow 
fluently upon your slave so undeserving a title. Dixi. 

Pol. Here's for all the company I 

Phy. Will you give me leave to be grateful 1 

Pol. Yes, surely. 

Phy. Fie ! I'll not desire the Muses to replete 
My willing genius with poetic heat ! 
This subject doth transcend them. I'll desire 
Apollo to this lay to touch his lyre. 
Thou charioteer of heaven, that dost invest 
Thy swift-hoof'd coursers in the dewy East, 
With harness worked by Mulciber, to light 
The world, and dissipate the clouds of night ! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 53 

For Phaeton's sake, not unto me unlike, 
Thy sweetest notes unto this ditty strike ! 

Pol. If the exordium be so long, 'twill be very 
tedious before the conclusion. 

Anti. Dismiss him, therefore ! 

Pol. Farewell, Dracuiemion ! 

Phy. Would I might kiss thee before Nentis ! [Aside. 

[Exit Phyginois. 

Pol. Madam, how do you like the lord Falorus 1 

Anti. Very well, my lord. 

Pol. Him I have often motion' d to Lucora, 
And he hath consented to marry her. Would it not 
Be good fortune for her, think you 1 

Anti. Indeed, I think it would. 

Pol. How say you now, Lucora 1 

Anti. For he is a much applauded gentleman, 
Of good conditions, and of sweet behaviour, 
Whose company is everywhere acceptable. 
He deserves a good match — such an one as your 
daughter is. 

Pol. How say you, girl % Was anything I told you 
of Falorus a falsehood ? Come ! prithee, do thyself 
a good turn, and take him. Do, Lucora ! 

Liic. Dear father, pardon me ! indeed I have not 
Any desire yet to marry. 

Pol. Sure you have ! Bethink you, and speak wiser. 

Luc. Truly, I have not, sir. 

Pol. Y' are a stubborn wench, and I am sorry 
It was my hard fortune to be your father. 
Your shrewdness shall not carry you through so 

freely 
As you believe it will ; it shall not, maiden ! 

Anti. Do not chide her ! she will be ruled by 
you. 

Luc. Indeed, madam, I had rather live as I do. 

Pol. No, I believe not that. There is some one 
Or other far inferior unto him 
Whom she's in love withal ; perhaps some vile 
Scum of the town. 

Luc. Dear sir, you conceive amiss of me ; for I 



54 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Love no man yet, and hope I never shall 
Be of another mind. 

Pol. 'Tis false ! I cannot believe you. 

Luc. If ever I should, I'd hate myself to place 
Affection on a man of base birth or 
Unseemly qualities. 

Anti. Be not angry, sir. 

Nent. I pray you, marry, madam, for it is 
A state wherein one may securely kiss. 

Luc. Leave thy foolery ! 

Nent. ! 'tis a fine thing to have a coach of one's 
own to go to a play when you will, 
And be restrained from nothing you desire to do. 

Luc. Marriage is no such liberty as you make it. 

Bos. Alas, poor daughter ! thou art to be pitied. 

Pol. Think of my will : I give you time. 

[Exeunt all but Rosinda. 

Bos. They have hard fortune, which the gods 
remove, 
That, where they cannot, are compell'd to love ! 
I would she had Carionil : I esteem not the ancient 

enmity 
Between the families. 

Enter Phyginois. 

Now, Draculemion ! how do you % 

Phy. At your beck, and in good health, brave 
spark of generosity ! 

Bos. Faith ! I am sorry I must leave you. 
I must needs follow my lord, otherwise 
We would have had one pint together. 

Phy. Thou art a jovial lad. Farewell ! 

[Exit Rosinda. 
my Nentis ! thou art a worthy Andromache, and 
dost deserve Hector, the courageous Trojan wag. 

Enter Philander. 

Phil. They are not here ! 
Phy. I must try my trick again. 
Divine Apollo, and ye Muses nine, 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 55 

Can ye behold his ruin unto whom 
Ye have vouchsafed sacred poesy 1 
Or see him sleep under a hedge i' th' field 
Who hath so often on Parnassus lain ? 
Or seek the river for to quench his thirst 
Who at Boeotian Hippocrene hath 
Pledged Mnemosyne in full-fraught cups 1 
Or wander barelegg'd, who upon the stage 
Hath acted oftentimes in socks and buskins % 
Or see him tann'd for want of an old hat, 
Whose temples, unto his immortal praise, 
Ye have so richly view'd begirt with bays 1 

Phil. Draculemion ! I am glad to find thee ! I'll 
have a speech. 

Phy. Your worship shall. 

Phil. Why, well said ! 

As yet the contentious night has not exterminated 
Hyperion from the celestial globe, who daily useth 
to hawk with the firmamental eagle, and to hunt Ursa 
Major round about the forest of the sky ; to go to 
plough when he wants corn with Taurus, and, when he 
is hungry, to eat Aries, and, at night, when he comes 
i' th' West, to court the lady Virgo to be his bed- 
fellow, whom, because he cannot obtain, he lashes on 
his horses, and goes and reports her stubbornness to 
his friends at the Antipodes. Nor as yet hath the 
trumpeter Boreas blown stormy clouds into our 
horizon, to deprive our eyes of the powerful radi- 
ance of his orbicular and refulgent head. Nor as yet 
am I weary to do you service, nor will be while I am 
able. 

Phil. Here's for you ! 
What a wordy nothing thou hast spoken ! 

Phy. You have given me current silver for it. 
Y'are a bountiful gallant ! [Exit. 

Phil. My father is my rival, and I find 
To him Antiphila is most inclin'd. 
What the Fates will, we never can prevent, 
And, till the end, we know not their intent. [Exit 



56 the obstinate lady. 

Act hi. —Scene i. 

Enter Falorus, solus. 

Fal. A potion he hath took, and is o'ercome 
By the deceitful working of % and lies 
As if he had no interest in this life. 
Lucora I have sent for, that we may 
See how she'll take it, for by her carriage now 
We shall perceive if there be any hope. 

Enter Cleanthe. 

What ! will the lady deign her presence here % 

Cle. She will, my lord ! 

Fal. 'Tiswell! 

Cle. And is at hand of ent'ring. 

Fal. Prithee, Anclethe ! bid them bring out my 
friend. [Exit Cleanthe. 

Though once Carionil did not believe 
My protestations to him, to relinquish 
All title to Lucora, yet I meant it. 
Were she a lady far more excellent, 
And richer in the ornaments of nature ; 
Did she exceed the fairest of her sex 
More than fine-featur'd Mars the ugliest Satyr ; 
Were her tongue music, and her words enchanting, 
And her conditions gentle, like a goddess, — 
I'd rather carry ^Etna in my breast, 
Than be disloyal to my friend ; far rather ! 

Enter Cleanthe, and Servants putting forth a bed 
with Carionil upon it. 

Thou art most dutiful, Anclethe. 
O art ! * nature's most curious imitatress ! 
How like a body late depriv'd of life 
Does he lie sleeping, without motion ! 

* " O, Anclethe ! "—1st ed. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. i 

Enter Lucora and Nentis. 

Cle. My lord, the lady Lucora ! 

Fal. Draw back ! 

But stay you here, Anclethe. [Exeunt Servants. 

I thank you, lady, for this favour to us : 
Were Carionil alive, he would requite it. 
He would, unto the utmost ! 

Luc. My lord ! 

I'm sorry that a gentleman, reputed ever 
Most wise, and voiced by a general fame 
To be complete and perfect in all goodness, — 
The which Carionil was, — should thus destroy 
The great opinion all the world had of him. 
His depriving himself of his own life 
For that foolish affection he bare me, — 
I having often told him that he spent 
His service barrenly, and that it would 
Yield him no fruit, — was such a weakness in him, 
That his life's honour his death's shame hath ruin'd. 
Hither I came at his dying request, 
Which, his boy told me, was to have me see 
What my obdurateness hath urg'd him to ; 
For so he term'd it. His desire is satisfied. 
Were he alive again, I could not love him. 
Sir, I should love him less for the poor weakness 
This act accuses him of — I should, believe me ! 
And so, my lord, I take my leave. 

Nent. Had I been his mistress, he had liv'd. 

[Aside. 

Fal Stay, lady! 
Show more respect, for truly he deserv'd it. 

Cle. But kiss his lips, if you will do no more. 

Luc. The boy and all 1 

Cle. Speaks reason. [Aside. 

Luc. His will I have accomplish'd. Farewell, sir ! 
[Exeunt Lucora and Nentis. 

Fal. Hath she a heart 1 or, if she have, what metal 
or stone is it of ? 
Dost not thou think, Anclethe, that man happy 



58 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Who's free from all the molestations 

That are concomitants to affection, 

And to the grievons bondage of a woman % 

Cle. My lord ! contingently. 

Fal. Thy timeless inexperience doth deceive thee. 
Believe me, boy, there does not live a woman 
Who more than complimentally is my mistress. 

Cle. Sir, you do not fear to love one of them 1 

Fal. Yes ; and the gods keep me still in that fear ! 
Sure such another [as Lucora] * put out Cupid's eyes. 

women, women ! 

Cle. Truly, my lord, I do believe all ladies 
Are not cruel ; indeed I do ! 

Fal. Thou art too young to be suspected, otherwise 

1 should think that some subtle false one had 
Beguil'd thy youth. Nature has worked the potion 

out. 

Cle. My lord recovers strength. 

Car. How is 't % 

Fal. How does my friend % 

Car. Eepeat my destiny. 

Fal. Receive it with as calm a quietness 
As I deliver it. Your ear ! [Privately. 

Cle. Vouchsafe him patience, ye gods ! 

Car. When huge-wav'd rivers from the earth's high 
banks 
Precipitate themselves into the ocean, 
Will stillness follow ? Can you think, then — can you, 
I may be quiet % Was Jove so when the great 
Brood of the earth, the giants, did assay 
Olympus' conquest ] Can I, then, a poor, 
Dejected man, be calm, when all the misery 
The world can send it pours on me fully 1 
iEolus, run thy vent'rous sword again 
Into the rocks, and give an issue to 
The winds, that they may with their ireful blasts 
Remove the world from off its stedfast hinge ! 
Or blow the pole-stars out, and so let fall 
This globe we breathe on ! Or, by whirlwinds' force, 

* Not in first edition. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 59 

Both sexes collect together, and carry them 

Int' places opposite, — the one into 

The Arctic, the other the southern regions ; 

And let them of themselves propagate the like : 

So women's tyrannies could do no ill, 

And men perform what one another will. 

Fal. This savours franticly ! 

Cle. Deprive him not of reason, but exalt 
Him to himself, heavens ! Ah, me ! 

Car. 'Tis true, the sea is always full of water, — 
The lands do relieve it, — and yet has no cause 
For lamentation ; but woeful man 
Hath but a few, indeed a very few, 
Salt tears to mollify the burthenous draught 
Of misery which his malignant stars 
Compel him to endure. 

What ! his mistress' venom, obstinacy, not possible ? 
'Tis insufferable — above our frail carriage. 

Fal. The word friend weighs all titles of honour 
down ; 
And therefore not by them, but that, I beseech you 
Not to neglect yourself. I 've lately known 
The time when death almost inevitable 
Could not unfix your thoughts. This cause is weaker. 

Car. How 1 ? 

Fal. Believe me, friend. 

Car. Believe you 1 I would believe thee, friend, 
Didst thou affirm absurdest contraries, — 
That the sun was extinguished, and the bright 
Moon was blown out, and all the stars were fall'n, 
And nature, yet harmonious, disordered 
Into another chaos — I would believe you ; 
For, rather than you should pronounce a falsehood, 
Things that are not would be. 

Fal. Alas ! you are distempered. 
I grieve to see you so for so poor a cause. 

Car. It is a weighty one ; and if the brave, 
Fam'd offspring of Alcmena had endur'd it, 
He had enlarg'd his labours to thirteen, 
And been another wonder to the world. 



60 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

But, noblest friend, you know the history, — 
How he the knotty club did lay aside, 
Put off the rough Nemsean skin, and donn'd 
Maidens' apparel, for the love he bore 
To ruin'd Picus' daughter, young Iole. 

Fal. But he ne'er offer'd violence to himself. 

Cle. He did not, sir. Be counsell'd by your friend ; 
Do, my good lord ! 

Car. He had not cause ; she did return him love. 
And, except in this case, I would suffer 
Beyond expression from another hand 
Without a thought to use mine own. But you 
May say I'm passionate : 'tis right ; I am so : 
I know 't, and you cannot expect less from me. 
Were I as free from love as you have known me, 
You should not tax me with that fault, although 
Unstable fortune made an Irus of me. 
But, you may call this boasting ? 

Fal. Far be it from me ; 'tis a perfect truth. 

Cle. Ah, alas ! 

Car. Leave sighing, boy, prithee ! 

Fal. Come ! 
You shall be temperate again, my friend, 
And have fair likelihood to obtain your lady. 

Car. Impossible ! 

Fal. I've formed the plot already ; you must be 

Draw near. 

Car. How ! — a negro — an Ethiopian ! — 'tis frivolous. 
She is too obdurate — most obstinate. 

Fal. Hath she not refused many of the bravest and 
handsomest gentlemen of this kingdom ? 
You cannot deny it ; be, therefore, counselled : 
She that cannot love a man of a better complexion, 
On one of them may settle her affection. 

Car. I have some hope again. Boy, you shall stay 
with my friend ; refuse it not, I prithee ! 
For many conveniences it is necessary. I every 
day shall see thee, and shortly will take thee 
again. 

Cle. My lord, I beseech you ! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 61 

Car. Nay, my Anclethe, let me not use words. 
As thou dost love me, deny me not. 

Cle. Sir, I am charm' d, and will obey you. 
Fal. Come ! let's walk, and I'll instruct you fully. 

[Exeunt omnes. 

Scene ii. 

Enter Jaques, solus, drunk. 

This London wine is a parlous liquor : 'twill turn 
you a man's head so long round, that at last 'twill set 
you it where his heels should be. Another glass on't 
had prov'd me a reeler, a cotquean, which I was never 
brought up too. I learnt a song of my old gran' am 
— many a good ballad she would 'a sung me by the 
fireside o'er a black pot, but your city wine is a more 
stinging liquor. She left me a very fair cow, but a 
villainous thief stole me her, foul cheeve him for it ! 
and escap'd I know not whither. But all 's one ; much 
good do him with it — my ladies' worship service is 
better than a team of oxen. But the song must not 
be forgot. 

I. 

All that about me sit 
Laugh at my pleasant wit, 
And neither cough nor spit, 

Till I have done — a. 
For I will sing a song, 
That fitly shall be long, 
To a cow, and not wrong 

Mount * Helicona. 

II. 

Don Quixote's Rosinant, 
And Sancho's ass errant, 
And Banks his horse do want 

What she may brag of. 

* " Clear." — 1st ed. 



62 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

They would one's breech much gall, 
And give one many a fall, 
Sufficient therewithal 

To break one's crag off. 

in. 

That Jove did love a steed, 
I yet did never read ; 
But by all 'tis agreed, 

Io he loved. 
No beast upon the field 
Doth man more profit yield, 
Whether alive or kill'd, 

As may be proved. 

Well, I'll to my chamber and sleep awhile ; other- 
wise I'st ha' a foul deal of do to keep me on my legs 
this afternoon. 

Enter Lorece. 

Jaques is now a very Barnaby .' 

Lor. Jaques ! soho, my boy ! [Exit Jaques. 

His match is extraordinary ; sure the rogue's dead, 
he's so very deaf. 

The report is, that Doctor Aristotle cast himself 
into the sea because he could not, with all his ram- 
bling philosophy, find out the natural cause of ebb- 
ing and flowing of it; but had his good scholar- 
ship been troubled with my mistress, he might ha' 
jolted his brains out against a rock, for his dulness in 
inventing a method of wooing to win her ladyship 
withal. I here will sit and muse. 

[Sits in a private place. 

Enter Vandona and Jaques. 

Joq. Indeed, madam, I will be very serviceable 
unto you, if now and then you will suffer me to be 
blythe and full of merry moods. 

Van. Jaques ! where ha' you been 1 

Jaq. At the spigot. Is it not a very rainy, wet day 1 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 63 

Van. Thou art well washed within. 

Jaq. 'Tis a very dark day. The sun shines very 
clear, tho' ! 

Van. Th' ast a light head, Jaques. 

Jaq. And yet I cannot bear't steadfast on my 
shoulders ; wine's monstrous strong ! 
Let me see, who amD 

Van. Th'art a fool. 

Jaq. The play's the better for 't. 

Van. Y'are a drunken coxcomb ; go ! 

Jaq. Thou captive Greek, I am a Beglerbeg ! 

Van. Thou wilt be a beggar, and thou leav'st not 
thy drinking. 

Jaq. Thou me Eoxalana ! am not I the great 
Sultan? 

Van. A booby ! 

Jaq. You show your breeding, to upbraid the 
majesty of the Grand Signor. 

Van. Peace ! no more fooling. 

Jaq. You are drunk with north-country balder- 
dash ; you keep no wine, water your kittens * with 
beer. Nothing but wine shall be drank in my court. 

Van. I shall be troubled with him else. Ambassa- 
dors wait your return at your palace. 

Jaq. We will withdraw ! Send the bashaws after 
me ; they shall present me wine. [Exit. 

Lorece discloseth himself. 

Van. Is he here % 
I shall be courted, certainly, and perhaps shall yield. 

Lor. Most welcome, happiest genius of my life ! 
Dearest Vandona, let your lily hand 
Enrich my lips ! 

Van. Y'are very complimental, servant. 

Lor. Mistress ! 'i faith, I love you, as for millions 
of causes, 
So also for a natural demeanour : 
It shows me you are no offspring of the city. 

Van. You would marry none of them, servant 1 
* "Kittlins."— lsted. 



64 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Lor. No ; six thousand pounds cannot hide a squint 
eye, a crooked back, a red head, or a muddy face, 
though they may gild them. 

Van. This is very satirical ! [but there be beauties of 
all-coloured hair, eyes, and complexions.] * 

Lor. I at any time will carry you to a play, either 
to the Black Friar's or Cockpit. And you shall go 
to the Exchange when you will, and have as much 
money as you please to lay out. You shall find me a 
very loving husband, in troth, dear lady. 

Van. But, servant, you have been a very debaucht 
gentleman. 

Lor. Forget what y'ave heard, and you shall hear 
no more on't. But we are extravagant ; come ! let's 
go to th' joiner. 

Van. To whom, and for what, Mr. Lorece % 

Lor. To Hymen, in his saffron coat, to be married. 

Van. Some other time ; a month hence will serve. 

Lor. Then must I count another bout. 

Van. What you please, sir. 

Lor. Cupid, the bowman ! 
I am not thy foe, man ; 
For I love this woman 
As well as I know man. 
And therefore I pray thee 
From mischief to stay me, 
And quickly to lay me 
In bed with this lady. 

Van. What call you this, sir 1 

Lor. 'Tis my imploration and ode. 

Van. Y'are very fluent, sir. 

IjOt. And yet neglected. But I'll make Cornelius 
Callus speak English, and he shall woo for me. 

Van. What say you, servant 1 

Lor. Be you attentive, and you shall hear. 
My sweet Vandona, fine and comely lass, 
Whose beauty milk and lilies doth surpass, 
And the sweet roses, both the white and red, 
Or Indian ivory new polished ; 

* Not in first edition. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 65 

spread ! spread abroad thy yellow hair, 

Like glorious gold, shining out as fair ! 

Thy purest alabaster neck, and show 's 

Which from between thy graceful shoulders grows ! 

Open thy starry eyes, and let us view 

Their brows above them, of a sable hue ! 

And both thy roseal cheeks let us espy, 

Beautified with a natural Tyrian die ! 

Put forth thy lips, their coral let us see, 

And, dovelike, gentle kisses give to me ! [Kisses her. 

Of amorous life thy breath did draw out part ; 

Those kisses pierced me to the very heart. 

Why didst thou suck my blood, cruel she 1 

Henceforth thy dugs, like apples, hide from me, 

Which with ambrosial cream shall swell thy breast, 

Discloseth cinnamon ; I yield, and best 

Delights arise from thee ! Yet thy paps cover, 

Whose growth and beauty do make me a lover. 

For seest thou not that languishing I lie ? 

A man half dead, how canst thou thus destroy 1 

Van. This is mere flattery. 

Lor. 'Tis but a spark, madam ! an almost invisible 
atom of truth, which can scarce be discern'd in the 
sunshine of your perfections ! Credit me, madam ! 

Van. They are most childish that will believe all 
their servants say, my most poetical servant. 

Lor. Most obdurate lady ! 

Van. Will you wrangle 1 

Lor. Was ever widow so hard to win % Sure your 
husband got not your maidenhead, you are so back- 
ward. 

Van. Adieu, sir. 

Lor. Not yet, I pray you, sweetest lady, if 

Van. Pray you, trouble me with no more speeches. 

Lor. cruel reply to a lover's suit ! 
If ever you have felt this passion's pain, 
If ever you would pitied be yourself, 
Or if you know that love hath power to kill, — 
For all these, which you heretofore have been 
Subject unto, commiserate a heart 
E 



66 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

So full of love for you that it will break 

If you deny. 

But if you will remain inexorable, 

And frown on him who aye must fawn on you, 

I wish my fortune may be yours, and that, 

If ere you love, you may be served so. 

Van. I'm but a woman, and these words would 
move 
A stupid rock to pity. Sir, I can 
Resist no more ; your tongue has magic in 't. 
You have o'ercome me ; and enjoy your conquest. 

Lor. My dear widow, let me kiss thee for this ! Thy 
date of wearing black is almost out. my joy ! me- 
thinks I could outsing old Homer, the nine Muses, 
and put their patron Apollo out of fame ! 

Enter Falorus, Cleanthe, and Phyginois in 
brave ^pparel. 

My Vandona, yonder is my brother ! he will be joyful 
to hear of my good fortune. 

Fal. Who's he? 

Cle. A friend of mine, my lord. 

Fal. I shall be desirous, sir, both for your own and 
for Anclethe's sake, to be better acquainted with you. 
May I demand your name ? 

Phyg. Your servant is call'd Phyginois. 

Fed. How have you sped, brother 1 

Lor. She will be called your sister. Salute her ! go, 
kiss her for 't. 

Fal. Lady, I hope my brother will deserve you, 
[By proving an affectionate husband to you.] * 

Phyg. Madam, I am a stranger, but will endeavour 
to make myself known unto you by any service I can 
do you. 

Van. Thank you, sir ! 

Phyg. My Nentis doth excel her sister. [Aside. 

Lor. Come, brother ! will you go with us 1 

Fed. I'll wait upon your mistress. 

[Exeunt Falorus, Lorece, and Vandona. 

* Not in first edition. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 67 

Cle. My faithful friend, may all thy wishes prosper, 
And a fair end crown them most happily. 

Phyg. Sweetest of ladies ! 

Cle. Thou didst prefer goodness before the raising 
of thy house. 

Phyg. It griev'd me to think so noble a lady should 
be so poorly dispos'd of ; 
My brother's birth nor fortune could deserve you. 

Cle. I was ignorant, and might have undone my- 
self. 

Phyg. But I did pity you. 

Cle. And ever have obliged me to you for 't. 

Phyg. If your sister's woman, Mistress Nentis, be 
obstinate, and you prosper, 
Hereafter you may do me a multitude of favours. 

Cle. I ne'er will fail to do the best I can. Now, let 
us follow them. 
Love is a passion not to be withstood, 
And, until hearts be mutual, never good. [Exeunt. 



Scene hi. 

Enter Carionil, solus, like a negro, in strange apparel. 

Car. A lover's life is like the various year, 
Which hardly bears one form a fortnight's space. 
He, sure, deserves respect, that to obtain 
His mistress thinks all trouble a content. 
These two years have not had as many quarters 
As I disguises, — scarce as many days 
As I devices, and yet to no purpose. 
What I may do in this I cannot guess, 
But for my own purpose must hope the best. 
My late long residence i' th' Spanish court, when I lay 

there lieger ambassador, 
Hath made me speak the Castilian language per- 
fectly ; 
Which will be my great furtherance, because 
Polidacre affects that tongue exceedingly, 



68 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

And I know will gladly give me a free access 
Unto his house at all times. 

Estoy yo, como deve, muy lobrego ; 
Porque de mi, Lucora haze un negro. 

Enter Polidacre, Lucora, and Nentis. 

They shall not see me yet. 

Luc. Sir, your daily importunacies have so moved 
me, that I must yield unwillingly; only, I request to 
have our marriage deferr'd a month. Dear sir, do not 
deny me this ! 

Pol. I thank thee, girl 1 

Enter Falorus. 

Welcome, Falorus ! My daughter's yours after four 
weeks be past. 

Fat. Worthy sir, y'are too bountiful. Most excel- 
lent Lucora, you will make my fortune envied. I 
must dissemble yet, for I will not wrong Carionil. 

Nen. I like this well. 

Lite. But I will rather die than have Mm. [Aside. 

Car. I do not doubt my friend. 

Pol. I have laboured much for you. 

Car. Now I'll disclose myself, and counterfeit the 
negro as well as I can. 

Araucana. 

Y pues en todos tiempos, y occasiones 
Por la causo commun sin cargo alguno, 
En battalas formadas, y esquadrones 
Puede usar delas armas cada uno : 
Por las mismas legitimas razones 
Es licito el combate de uno a uno, 
A pie, a cavallo, armado, disarmado, 
Ora se a campo abierto, ora estocado. 

Don Carionil, would I could hear of thee ! 

Luc. He is the brav'st proportion'd African I ever 
saw. [Aside, 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 69 

Pol. I will speak to him. 
Habla, voste, yngles t 

Car. Yes, sir ! I learned your language at Bruxels. 

Pol. I shall be most glad, sir, to be acquainted with 
you. 

Car. Grave Nelides' years be doubled, most honour- 
able hero, upon you ! Your courtesy has won one of 
the chiefest Ethiopian lords to become your servant. 

Imc. What an unequall'd carriage he is of ! [Aside. 

Car. You look, sir, like a noble gentleman. I 
salute you ! 

Fal. Well, Don Carionil, may'st thou prosper. Your 
mistress has consented a month hence to marry me ; 
but doubt me not, my friend ! 

Car. According to the Ethiopian custom, 
Great lady, I adore your pantofle ! 

Imc. You are a worthy and a noble Moor. 

Car. This is your shadow ; you shall command me, 
fair one. 

Nen. Thank you, sir. 

Pol. I heard you mention Carionil 1 

Car. 'Tis true, I did so. 

When we were in the Spanish court together, — 
I being commanded thither an ambassador 
From th' Emperor of both the Ethiopias 
And of the mighty kingdoms and vast countries 
Of Goa, Caffares, Fatigar, Angola, 
Barne, Balignoza, Adea, Vagne, and Goyame, — 
He wrong' d me ; and I am come hither to seek him, 
And with my sword to punish his rude language. 
If you will tell me, sir, where I may find him, 
You shall eternally oblige me to you. 

Pol. He is lately dead, sir. 

Car. You do but jest ! 

Fal. I was with him when he died. 

Car. Then he had not so honourable an end as was 
intended him. 

Pol. If I should not seem too inquisitive, I would 
desire to know your quarrel. 

Luc. I am much taken with this object. [Aside. 



70 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Car. You may command me anything. 
We, meeting in the presence one afternoon, 
'Mongst many things, did happen to discourse 
Of ladies. He said that none of all the world 
Were so beautiful as the Spanish. 
I, that had read in many histories 
The English have the best and loveliest faces, 
Did tell him so, yet could not change his mind. 
After long altercations, he grew hot, 
Gave me the lie reproachfully, which forced me to tell 
him, that though I owed so much honour to both the 
majesties of our great masters as not for private 
wrongs to disturb our embassies, I meant, before I 
died, to visit his country, and call him there unto a 
strict account. 

Pol, I thank you for your free relation. 
While you intend to stay in England, use 
My house at your pleasure ; I pray you, do. 
Your company will be always welcome to me ; 
And I love the Oastilian language, which 
You speak both readily and purely. 
May I demand your name ? 

Car. Tis Tucapelo, and I'm subject to 
Great Prester John, whose powerful sceptre awes 
Sixty-two kings ; and in Garama live, 
Magnificent for silken palaces. 

Fal. His behaviour is without suspicion. [Aside. 

Pol. 'Tis dinner-time, or nigh; pray you be my 
guest ! 
You shall be very welcome, [sir, both now and at all 
times.] * 

Car. I'll wait upon you. 

Pol. Falorus, let me entreat your stay ! 

Fal. You shall command me. 

[Exeunt Polidacre, Carionil, and Falorus. 

Luc. Injurious tyrant, love ! Nentis ! 

Nen. Madam ! 

Luc, Stay a little. 

How frail is any woman's resolution ! 

* Not in first edition. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 71 

I, that so seriously have often thought 

Never to change my name, am now become 

A slave unto a Moor ! I feel the mighty 

Fabric of all my maiden virtue totter. 

What can befal me worse 1 But I may as well 

Withstand a volley of shot, and as easily, 

As resist these new desires. Tis very strange 

That I, who have denied the earnest suit 

Of so complete a gentleman as was 

Carionil, and neglected his friend, — 

For I will rather steal away, and do 

Mean services to my inferiors 

Than be his wife, — should doat upon a person 

Some ladies scarce dare look upon, — a Moor, 

A sunburnt Moor I'm utter stranger to ! 

What would my father say if he should know 

My thoughts % Banish me ever from his sight, 

And never more think of Lucora's name. 

But love is not confin'd to the opinion 

Of others. Oh, this is a revenge for my 

Slighting of brave Carionil ; yet, if 

He were alive again, I could not love him. 

Alas, I am undone ! that my fates 

Had been so kind as to have wrought my heart 

Fit and propense to have requited him ! 

Nentis, will you be silent of my love 1 

Be so good, Nentis. 

Nen. Why, madam, will you have this blackamoor 1 
Methinks my lord Falorus is a handsomer man by 
much. Alas ! he will take you beyond the sea. 

Luc. Nothing is strong enough to divert me. 

Nen. Your secrets, madam, are as safe in my breast 
as yours. 

Luc. Befal what will, I am resolv'd. 
Affection that doth tend 
Not crookedly, but to a noble end, 
Is worthy ; and they stubbornly repine 
At their creation who from it decline. [Exeunt ambce. 



i 2 the obstinate lady. 

Act iv. — Scene i. 
Enter Phylander and Antiphila. 

Phyl. Sweetest Antiphila ! 

Anti. I wonder, sir, in what I have so forfeited my 
faith 
That I cannot be credited. 

Phyl. Urge me not, lady, unto a belief 
That will be my destruction. 
Delay me rather with a little hope, 
And save me from despair. 

Anti. I can but say what I have said already ; 
You do not trust my tongue. Pray take a parchment, 
And there inscribe a sad and solemn oath, 
And I'll subscribe that I will never have you. 

Phyl. The fatal raven's hoarse crying 
Is Thracian music unto your reply. 
Would I had heard a thousand mandrakes groan, 
So you had left me in silence ! 

Anti. I pity you ; but did you know me truly, you 
Would bless my denial, young Phylander. 

Phyl. Bless it! lady, 
Durst I but be so horribly profane 
As to curse anything you please to do, 
I would go study imprecations, and 
Vent them in places that are haunted by 
Wild walking devils ; but my grand affection 
Condemns that violence.* Do not then suppose 
That, though you were a Succubus, I durst 
Utter such impious breath. Be all the faults, 
That either truth or poets' fictions 
Have strewn on j women, in you, I will love you 
With serious admiration. 

Anti. Sir, I will release your affection. 

Phyl. Impossible ! 

Not the fairest creature, by diligent search pick'd out 

* This line, " But my grand affection," etc., not in first edition. 
t " Shewn in." — 1st ed. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. i 6 

Of all the infinite myriads of beauties 
Selected from the spacious kingdoms of 
The earth, and I might choose her freely, 
Should win upon my heart to dispossess you ; 
She should not, lady. 

Anti. You will not hear me ! 

Phyl. Then may eternal deafness seize upon me ! 
Speak, lady ; and though you do say the last 
Word I shall ever hear, I will with joy 
Be most attentive : the dark cave of sleep 
Is not more quiet. 

Anti. I am contracted. 

Phyl. You are not, lady ! 

Anti. I am, sir. 

Phyl. Unto my father ? 

Anti. No. 

Phyl. Then sentence his sure death by naming him. 

Anti. Will you destroy the man I love 1 

Phyl. And you him that loves you 1 

Anti. What is done cannot be undone. 

Phyl. It shall ! 

Anti. You must not know his name therefore. 

Phyl. If there be any manhood in his breast, 
He shall disclose himself. I'll challenge him 
By such sure circumstances, and set the papers 
On public places by the play-bills, that if 
He dares but use a sword he will be known. 

Anti. So you will publish my disgrace. 

Phyl. Too true. lady, dear Antiphila, 
Give me his name ! I will not kill him foully ; 
We will meet fairly. I may die upon 
His sword, and you thereby be freed from my 
Unworthy suit. 

Anti. Sir, promise me one thing, and I will tell you. 

Phyl. Here is my hand ; you shall charm me ! 

Anti. I must lie, and grossly, to be rid of his court- 
ship. 
It is Tandorix. You must not speak of it to any, 
Or quarrel about it. 

Phyl. 'Tis not ! you mock me, sweet Antiphila. 



74 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Anti. Indeed, Phylander, I do not. 
You will be secret for my sake, until 
I do release you from your promise. 

Phyl. Y'ave had my hand; silence must be my death. 

Anti. I'll leave you, sir, and build upon your word, 
For I perceive you are displeas'd. [Exit Antiphila. 

Phyl. This 'tis to be a fool, which is the truest 
And briefest definition of a lover. 
What fury fascinated so my senses 
As wilfully to make me become a slave 
Unto the childish passions of a woman % 
On this occasion would I understood 
The saddest epithets of necromancy, 
That I might join them to this sex. my heart ! 
I am o'ercome with rage, and will be rather 
A perjur'd Mahommedan, and wade 
Through streams of blood into her arms, than a 
Soft-conscienc'd ass and let this villain have her. 
Could envious hell suppose a body of 
So delicate a composition could 
Within it lodge a mind so poor and worthless 1 
This is a woman's weakness ; no, 'tis a baseness 
Cannot be match'd in all the faults of man. 
But why am I so angry ? I will show 
My fury not in idle breath, but deeds ; 

Enter Kosinda. 

And this shall be the time. Thou base ambitious 
Slave, before we part thou diest ! 

Bos. O good sir, why 1 I ne'er offended you. 
Heaven knows I love you best of all the world. 

Phyl. Thou art the hinderance of all the bliss 
I could expect or wish for upon earth. 

Ros. Sir, let me hear the reason of your rage, 
And, if you find that I have injur'd you, 
I will not beg for life. 

Phyl. Find it ! I know it clearly, 

And will not honour thee, vile man, so much 
As t' let my tongue join such unequal names. 

Bos. I understand you not. Dear sir, be plain ! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 75 

Phyl. Art thou prepar'd to die 1 If not, kneel here, 
And pray thyself into a readiness. 

Bos. Be not so violent ! 

Phyl. Repent ! 

Bos. Let me understand my offence. The chrisom 
child* 
Is not more innocent of wrongs to you 
Than guiltless I. 

Phyl. The tears of crocodiles ! 

Bos. I humbly do upon my knees implore you 
That you thus rashly will not take away 
The life you never can restore, and will 
Bewail for in an over-late repentance. 

Phyl. To heaven, and not to me, make orisons. 
I am resolved. 

Bos. For your deceased mother's sake, at whose 
Sad funeral letter I was entertain'd 
Into your father's family, and for 
Those tears and sighs and sorrows she did weep, 
Groan, and express at her delivery of you, 
Be merciful unto a faultless stranger. 

Phyl. A tedious and an exquisite torture for 
Thy death should not deter me from it. My mother, 
Could she arise out of her wat'ry grave, 
Appear in both our views, and be an eloquent 
Suppliant unto me for thy life, should not 
Prevail to win me to it. 

Bos. Then nothing will satisfy. Keep in your sword ; 
I am your mother. Draw off this periwig, 
And my face will establish your belief. 

Phyl. It does indeed. Here, prostrate on my knees, 
For my rude language I do crave remission. 

Bos. And you obtain it, and my blessing too ; 
But you deserve blame for your violent fury. 

Phyl. let me kiss your gracious hand, and seal 
My pardon on your happy lips ! 
Why did you grieve us for the sad report 
Of your untimely end 1 

Bos. You shall know all anon. But yet conceal 
* See Davenant's "Works in this series, vol. i. p. 79. 



76 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

My being, till your father's love be ripe, 
And grown mature for a second marriage ; 
I pray you, do. 

Phyl Mother, I will. 

Now I've good hope Antiphila will be mine. [Exeunt, 



Scene ii. 
Enter Carionil, Lucora, and Nentis. 

Car. And, my lady, you shall not wish anything, 
If that an human power can obtain it, 
But I will make it yours. I hope you do 
Not wrong my love with a suspicion 
That I cannot perform whate'er I promise % 

Luc. I do not, sir, distrust your affection ; 
But give me leave to doubt I shall not live 
According to my content in ^Ethiopia. 

Car. Most noble lady, I, that have seen both places, 
Dare promise you you will. 

Luc. I cannot tell, sir ; I must believe you. 

Car. For these few words, whose sweetness doth 
exceed 
Vast and elaborate volumes of eloquence, 
May all the joys that ever have made happy 
The numerous Queens and Empresses that have 
Been ornaments and glories to the world, 
Meet unto their perfection in you. 

Luc. My Tucapelo ! when I did see you first, 
I fell in love as deep as lady could. 

Car. And may I die when, in imperfect thoughts, 
You do repent your choice. Mistress, I can 
Make famous Gamara* as pleasing to you 
As is your native country. You shall find 
Delights above not equal to your mind. 

Luc. Sir, your company shall be all things unto me. 

* Qy. "Amhara?" — "Besides Auima, there are no cities in 
Habessinia, and but few towns. They have neither castles nor 
forts. The celebrated mountains of Amhara are their onely 
citadels, where the King's children were formerly committed to 
custody. — Ludolphus' Neio History of Ethiopia. Lond. 1682, folio. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 77 

Car. You shall not touch one drop of water but shall 
Be of more virtue than the Thespian spring, 
Where reverent poets of the former times 
Quaff 'd off huge bowls to great Apollo's health. 
Young virgins, whose sweet voices do exceed 
Mnemosyne's daughters, shall sing you asleep 
Each night ; and, when you grace the happy woods 
With your rich presence, they shall make a concert 
With the innocuous choristers of the spring, 
To entertain the mistress of my life. 

Nen. And I go thither, they shall teach me to sing. 

[Aside. 

Car. The jewel- tippets of your ears shall weigh 
The curious points of precious icicles, 
When Leo breathes hot vapours on the earth. 
Your sedulous slaves, enrich'd by noble blood, 
Shall bear your litter through the tedious streets 
Of Gamara ; while all the gallant youth 
Within it runs to wonder at your beauty ! 

Luc. I do believe you love me so much, sir, 
That you will show it all the ways you can ; 
And I do thank you for it, and love you, 
And I will show it all the ways I can. 

Car. happiest speech my ears did ever hear ! 
Amphion's music made not such a sound ; 
Nor Orpheus' lute, that tam'd the stubborn spleen 
Of Hell's inhuman dog, when he did play 
For the redemption of his ravish'd spouse ; 
Nor Phoebus, when unto his gold-strung lyre 
He for superiority did sing 
His sweetest anthems and best madrigals 
Against ambitious Pan, made harmony 
To parallel the sweetness of your tongue. 

Luc. If that all my endeavours can deserve 
At this height your affection, by my fault 
It never shall decrease. 

Car. You over-act me much, but never shall 
Have thoughts beyond me ! 

Luc. I pray you spare my company a while ; 
A while I would be private with my woman. 



78 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Car. Lady, I will do things unwillingly 
At your command ; but give me license, fairest, 
To print my heart upon your heavenly lips 
Ere my departure hence. — [Kisses her.] — The Ottoman 

Emperors, 
In their immense seraglio never saw 
Your matchless features in their numberless 
Successive multitudes. I am so blest, 
That my excessive joys cannot be guess'd. 

Luc. Nentis ! [Exit Carionil. 

Nen. Madam. 

Imc. Unfold thy heart unto me. Let me know 
What thoughts thou hast of me. 

Nen. I may offend. 

Luc. Indeed thou shalt not ! 

Nen. Then I do wonder, madam, that you will 
Bestow yourself, I think, unworthily. 

Luc. How % 

Nen. This is unpleasing to you ; I will be 
Hereafter silent. I have offended you. 

Luc. No ; proceed ! 

Nen. You are a lady until now unstain'd 
With any blot, save obstinacy to 
The brave deceas'd Carionil, and will you 
Give the world reason, a good one, — pardon 
My honest boldness, madam, — to tax your judgment, 
And, which is worse, your virtue, for this choice 1 
Is not Falorus far more worthy of you 1 
Marry him, madam, and live still in England. 
I'm sure my counsel would be seconded 
By all the friends you have, did they but know 
As much as I. But, madam, if you have 
Settled your affection past recall, and are 
Eesolved, I will be most obedient 
And secret unto all your purposes. 

Imc. And wilt thou go to Ethiopia with me 1 

Nen. If I do get no servant before, and if 
You will, if I dislike the country, give 
Me liberty to return home. 

Luc. Most willingly. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 79 

Enter Falorus, Cleanthe, and Phyginois. 

Nen. My Lord Falorus ! 

Luc. Where 1 

Phyg. If I can find the least opportunity, 
I will try, Nentis, of what metal th' art made. 

Fal. I hope, mistress, our company 
Is not unwelcome to you. 

Luc. By no means, sir. 

Fed. How gently it pass'd her tongue ! 
For that sweet word I kiss your hand, dear lady. 

Luc. Where did you leave my father, my lord 1 

Fal. Above, a-reading Guicciardin. 

Nen. Sir, I can perceive when I am flatter'd. 

Phyg. Earnest expressions of love deserve a better 
name. 

Nen. Why, sir, I cannot believe you love me. 

Phyg. You need not doubt of that, mistress ; I do 
With as much fervency as servant can. 
I do beseech you, lady, to believe me. 

Nen. They are of easy faiths that believe all their 
servants say.* 

Luc. What ail you, my lord 1 you are not well. 

Fal. Unwelcome guest, away ! I was thinking of 

Luc. Of what? 

Fal. I ha' forgot. Would they would all love me ! 

[Aside. 
I am most strangely alter' d on the sudden ; 
My friendship, I fear, will be too weak a tie 
To make me silent. 

Cle. My lord ! 

Fal. Thou hadst a master did deserve thee better. 

Cle. But he is dead, and I am yours by his 
Last legacy. 

Fal. What would'st thou say 1 ? [Aside. 

Cle. I hope you're well ! 

Fal. He has found out an alteration in me ; 

[Privately. 
I must beware of public signs. I was 

* This line not in first edition. 



80 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Full of Carionil ; my thoughts were busy 
Concerning him. 

Madam, I pray you pardon my neglect 
Of frequent visits ; I have been too guilty. 

Imc. You have not offended. 

Fal. 'Tis your great goodness to say so. 

Nen. This, sir, is too importunate. 

Phyg. Too slack, dear mistress; but wink at my 
insufficiency. 

Nen. You said you love no woman in the world 
But me. 

Phyg. And may you hate me if I do. 

Nen. As I see you ready to give me full satisfaction 
that you mean faithfully, so shall you find me willing 
to requite you. 

Phyg. No man can boast such happiness. 

Nen. Sir, be moderate. You're not so sure of me 
but, upon occasion, I can retire ; neither would I have 
the company take notice of us. 

Phyg. You shall command me, mistress. 

Fal. These passions are new to me ; would I were 
private ! 
I never did observe her so well before. 

Imc. My lord ! 

Fal. What say you, madam 1 

Imc. You saw not my brother, Phylander, to-day ? 

Fal. No, truly, lady, I did not ! 

Imc. Your brother, Nentis says, shall shortly be 
married to 
The rich widow, her sister. 

Fal. So he doth hope. 

Enter Tandorix. 

Bos. Madam, dinner stays of you ! 
Luc. You hear, my lord ! 

Fal. Nay, Anclethe, stay not for me ; wait on the 
lady. 
I'll follow immediately. 

[Exeunt Lucora, Nentis, Phyginois, and 
Cleanthe. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 81 

What ails me 1 Let me see ! 

What is the cause of such an alteration 

I find within me 1 Doubtless it is love. 

To whom ? to whom but to the worthiest 

And sweet Lucora ? Take heed, 'tis dangerous ! 

A sudden ruin so will seize my friendship, 

And prove my former protestations 

Feign'd untruths. Cannot the noble name 

Of young Carionil prevent me 1 No ; 

Nor certainty of all the evil wills 

Of all the friends I have. 

Were both our better genius orators, 

And here embraced fast my knees, and wept 

Miraculous tears to quench the rising flames 

Lucora's irresistible eyes have kindled 

In me, or to drown this late impression love 

Hath sealed upon my heart, I'd be as remorseless 

As the most stern and unremoved Scythian, 

And deafer than the people that inhabit 

Near the Egyptian cataracts of Nile. 

But I am base, base to infringe the knot 

Of amity a long and serious knowledge 

Of each other hath tied betwixt us. 'Twere safer 

Sailing with drunken mariners between 

Hard Scylla and Charybdis, than to suffer 

My much divided thoughts, and forth of them 

To work such a conclusion to my passions 

As might hereafter confirm me noble in 

The opinion of the world. But I'm most ignorant, 

And know not what to do. Would I were so 

Distraught that my own self I could not know ! 

[Exit. 

Scene hi. 

Enter Lorece and Vandona. 

Lor. Sweet mistress ! your bounty will become 
An envy unto future times. 
Van. So let your love, sir. 

F 



82 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Loi\ But speak, my dear ; what happy day shall give 
A fair conclusion unto all my wishes 1 
Van. What haste, good servant 1 

Enter Jaques. 

Lor. Nay, be not angry, sweet ! 

Jaq. Madam, and please you, your own good servants 
desire to show your worships some pretty pastime. 

Van. It pleases us well ; when begins it 1 

Jaq. E'en presently. I'll go and tell them all what 
a woman you are. [Exit Jaques. 

Lor. This is not usual with you. 

Van. Indeed, servant, so seldom, that I remember 
not the like. 
Sure 'tis for your entertainment. They think I have 
Been a niggard of it, and help'd to make it out. 

Lor. You are too good ! 

Van. So you can never be. 

Lor. And yet I will not fail to do my best. 

Van. I pray you do not, dear Lorece, for 'tis a good 
resolution. 

Enter Clownish Maskers. 

Lor. I see we shall have some odd thing. 

Van. I wish, sir, it may prove worthy your laughter. 

Lor. My fair Vandona, I believe you will have your 
desire. 

Van. Jaques is among them ; he may move you. 

Jaq. An' either of you ask what's here, 'tis a mask, 
Which we actors do hope will content you ; 
If not, when it ends let us all part friends, 
And of your attention go in and repent you. 
I hope your worships will say I have pronounc'd this 
well enough 1 

Lor. To my content, honest Jaques. 

Van. I'm glad you like it. 

Jaq. Come, Hymen, thou fellow that always wear'st 
yellow, 
Draw near in thy frock of saffron ; 
Once more, I say, appear before this gentleman here, 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 83 

And this lady in the white apron 

If the boy thou dost bring has a voice fit to sing, 

Let's have a merry new ballet. 

Begin thou the song, and it will not be long, 

We hope, before he will follow 't. 

A Song. 

Hymen. Say, boy, who are fit to be 
Join'd into a unity 1 
Boy. They that will permit their wives 
To live pleasant quiet lives, 
And will never entertain 
Thoughts of jealousy, if vain. 
Hym. Now, boy, let this couple hear 

What should be the woman's care ? 
Boy. A wife should be secret, true, 
Most obedient, and no shrew ; 
Should obey her husband's will, 
While therein she finds no ill. 
Omnes. Such a wife, and husband too, 
We do wish both him and you. 
Lor. Prithee, sweet, let's be married this afternoon, 

and this shall be our epithalamion. 
Van. Stay my leisure, good servant ; 't will not be 

long. 
Jaa. Now, if you please to cast a glance hither, ye 
shall see us dance. 
Fiddlers, play, begin and strike ; what ye see do not 
dislike. [They dance. 

Lor. What a mad toy 'tis, mistress ! 
Van. Jaques ! this day use my wine cellar; you and 
your company 
May be as free in it as you will. 

Hym. Her ladyship says well ! Good now; ho! let's 
go thither 
Without more ado. 

Jaa. Goodman Wedlock, where was your mind, 
mar'le 1 * Is there not a piece behind yet 1 I'll not 
budge a foot till I have discharg'd it. 

* I marvel. 



84 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Hym. Out with it, then ! 

Jaq. Mr. Marriage, put me not out with your grin- 
ning ; for an' you do, all's spoil'd. 

Gentleman and madam, you have seen 
What our mask and performance hath been. 
If you like both, 'tis well ; and if but one, 
Of the other would we had done none. 
For clapping your hands we care not two chips, 
We are satisfied if you join your lips. 
Lor. I thank you all. 
Van. And so do I. You now may go. 
Jaq. And so we must, for I ha' done. All's done ; 
this last what-do-you-call was the full end of it. 
Hym. Why go we not % 

Boy. I am very dry with singing and dancing. 
Jaq. Follow me to the wine cellar ! 

[Exeunt Maskers. 
Van. You must keep your promise; you are ex- 
pected by this. 
Lor. Lady, I kiss your hand : this is my vale. As 
often as I come 
I'll seal my welcome on your lips. Farewell, widow ! 
Van. Remember my service to your brother. 
Lor. Command me anything. [Exeunt ambo. 



Scene iv. 

Enter Carionil, solus. 

Caa\ The tedious winter of my many griefs 
Her calmer heavenly breath hath now blown over, 
And all my tears and sighs are now converted 
Into a happiness will soon be perfect. 
The gallant courtier, Paris Alexander, 
When he had stole the young Atrides' bride, 
The sister of the two Tindarides, 
And with great triumphs entered into Troy, 
Was sad and melancholy unto me. 
How wise the fates are ! Ere we can obtain 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 85 

Perfect fruition of the thing we love, 
We must break through great difficulties and tedious, 
Unto the end that we may more esteem 
And prize our happiness when we achieve it. 
Thanks, excellent lady ! for your gracious promise ; 
May every lover henceforth bless your tongue. 
She hath prefix' d this hour to be the time 
Wherein I shall outgrow all hope, and fix 
Upon the proudest height of fortune's wheel. 
Hail, happy hour ! This is her chamber window, 
And this the door whereby she must escape. 

Enter Litcora and Nentis, above. 

Shine well, ye stars ! and let this project find 
Your influences to a lover kind. 

Nen. See, madam, he is come ! my lord Tucapelo 
has not trespass'd on a minute. 

Luc. Then is our parting near ; your new servant 
hath prevented your journey. 

Car. Nentis ! 

Luc. Most honoured Tucapelo, I am here 
In presence, to give answer to my love. 

Car. Are you ready, worthiest lady 1 

Luc. I am, my love ! 

Car. Neglect your jewels; Gamara shall supply 
you. 

Luc. I care for nothing if I have but you. 

Car. Descend, my dear ! each minute is an age 
Until I crown my joys with your possession. 

Luc. I come ! Nentis, farewell ! Report that my 
Escape was unto thee unknown, and that 
I stole away when thou wast fast asleep ; 
I would not have thee blam'd for me. Excuse 
Me to my father all the ways I have 
Instructed thee in. [Descendunt. 

Car. Cynthia, triumph ! and let thy brother hear 
His eyes did never witness such a stealth ; 
Be proud in thy pale lustre, and make known 
Apollo doth tell tales, but thou tell'st none. 
Not yet ? How tedious seems a moment ! 



86 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Delays in love 

Would raise impatience in Olympic Jove. 

Enter Lucora and Nentis. 

But she is entered ! Welcome, sweet Lucora ! 
Above expression welcome ! My crown of joy 
I would not change for an imperial sceptre. 

Luc. I am most happy in your love, dear friend. 
Thanks, good Nentis ! My woman cannot go 
with 's. 

Car. Then farewell, Nentis ! 

Nen. May the propitious heavens 
Crown both your heads with all fair fortune. 

Car. Our thanks go with you ! [Exit Kentis. 

Ialc. It is your promise, sir, that I shall live 
Without contradiction in my religion, — 
Enjoy my conscience freely : Your vow was solemn. 

Car. I do acknowledge it, and will perform it 
True. Not to be denied? what a great frost chills 
my affection ! 

Luc. Then I'll be confident. 

Car. You may ! 

I am amaz'd and lost within a wonder. 
Let me consider ; have I cause to love 
A lady that hath so much neglected me 
That she hath preferr'd a negro 1 and, 'tis likely, 
When she knows me, will care as little for me 
As e'er she did, and, if she meets with one 
Of this complexion I feign, confer 
Her perfect love upon the slave % 'Tis clear 
I have no reason to do it ; neither will I, 
For I am free, know liberty again : 
This poor unworthiness in her hath loos'd me. 
Would it not be a weakness in me — let me argue it — 
To bestow myself upon a woman of 
So obstinate a nature, that she lov'd me less 
When she believ'd that for her sake I had 
Done violence upon myself 1 It would be 
A matchless one, beyond example, and which 
Future times would admire but not parallel ! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 87 

Luc. Come, shall we hence 1 Delay is dangerous. 

Car. No ! be it what it will. 

Luc. We must not stay here long. 

Car. Nor will we. 

Lac. Alas! what ails my noble Tuca- 

pelo? 
You had not wont to answer me so slightly. 
Do you not love me still ? 

Car. No ! 

Luc. The heavens forbid ! I am Lucora ! 

Car. I do confess you are, but must deny 
I love you. 

Luc. I could endure your sword with better ease. 
Use ? t, and revenge what ignorant ill I have 
Committed against you. I had rather die 
By your dear hand than to return from hence 
With this strong poison in my breast. 

Car. Kill you 1 
Lady, I would not do it to obtain 
The sovereignty of the sea-parted earth. 
Live many years in happiness ; I wish it 
With all my soul, else may I die unwept for. 
But give me leave to leave you, and bestow 
Laughter, not tears, for my inconstancy. 
Think me unworthy of your worthy self, 
For I cannot love you, nor will marry you. 

Luc. Surely you will ! Have you a cause to be 
So merciless unto a passionate lady, 
One that so truly wonders at your worths 1 
I pray you, sir, jest not so solemnly ; 
Thunder is music in my ears to this. 

Car. I do not ! Credit me, most fair Lucora, 
I am in earnest, nor would I spend the time 
In words. Shall I call Nentis 1 

Imc. Rather call basilisks to look me dead, 
Than her to help me mourn your unkind parting ! 
do not thus ! wherein am I deform'd 
So suddenly, that you so soon should leave me 1 

Car. This is a trouble to yourself ; you cannot 
Speak words enough to make me yours. 



88 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Luc. Can I not speak sufficiently % Then I 
Will try if there be magic in my knees. 
Look, sir, a lady kneels to you for love, [She 
To whom the noblest in the realm have sued. 

Car. All is in vain. 

Luc. Thou man, that art more lasting in thy fury 
Than the Egyptian wonder through the storms 
Of many bleak tempestuous winters ; 
Say, worthless man, if it becomes thee well 
To let a loving lady kneel to thee, 
And thou be merciless and not raise her up % 

Car. I pray you, rise ! 

Imc. And will you then be reconcil'd unto me 1 

Car. No, I cannot. 

Luc. Then will I turn a statue. 

Car. I pray you leave me, and forget me ever ; 
Henceforth you shall not see me any more ! 

Luc. Not see you any more 1 
O faithless man, and full of perjuries ! 
Thy nature is transparent ; thou art false 
As is the smooth-fac'd sea, which every wind 
Disturbs, — a false barbarian, and born under 
Deceitful Mercury. A Briton would 
Rather have died than thus have wronged me. 
Thou art inhuman, and may'st boast thy conquest, 
Tell your most savage countryman this act, — 
If the just god of seas revenge me not, — 
And number it 'mongst your proud cruelties. 

Car. Be pacified ! I pray you leave this rage. 

Luc. When I am dead I shall, and not before ; 
And that shall not be long, for thou shalt see me. 
Merciless man, thou shalt, and add that to 
Thy bloody conquests, boast how a slighted lady 
For thy unkindness made herself away. 
This hand, wherewith I would have given myself 
To thee, shall take me from my misery. 

[Offers to Mil herself. 

Car. Hold ! I am Carionil ! 

Luc How ! say that again ! 

Car. I am Carionil ! 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 89 

Luc. That breath hath rais'd me and 

made me myself. 

Car. I counterfeited the negro to obtain you, 
The wished period of my griefs ; and might, 
But will not love that woman that shall scorn 
All my endeavours, and entertain a stranger, 
An Ethiopian, and prefer him — no. 
Judge, fair Lucora, if I have not cause. 

Luc. Yes, yes, you have ; but now you do not need 
More of your rhetoric to dissuade me from you. 
There are not in the world temptations 
Can make me yours. I cannot give a reason ; 
'Tis in my nature, and a secret one. 

Car. I am glad it is so. 

Luc. This is the happiest hour 

My life did ever pass, and quickly chang'd. 

Car. I rejoice at the alteration. Madam, you shall 
Command me to do anything but marry you. 

Luc. Then I command you never move me more. 

Car. I will obey you. 

Luc. Now you may call Nentis. 

She is not yet in bed ; I see a light yet. 

Car. Most willingly. Nentis ! 

Enter Nentis, above. 

Nen. What's the matter, marie 1 * 

Luc. Come down ! 

Nen. I wonder much. I come, madam ! [Descendit. 

Luc. You will be secret, sir, of what hath past 1 

Car. You may be confident I will. 

Luc. I else shall suffer much in my honour. 
Women ! take heed ; the men whom you deny 
May win you to be theirs by policy. 
They Proteus-like will vary shapes, until 
Beyond their wishes they have plac'd their will. 

Enter Nentis. 

Car. Your woman's come ; good night ! 

Luc. Good night, sir ! [Exit Carionil. 

* Besides " I marvel, 1 ' this word also signifies " a gossip." 



90 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Nentis, I now will never pass the seas ; 
Tucapelo is become Carionil. 

Nen. Amazement seizeth me ! 

Luc. Anon thou shalt know all. 

Nen. I hope that now you will be ruled by your 
friends, and take the lord Falorus to your husband. 

Luc. Hang husbands ! 

Nen. The gods bless them all, I say, 

and send me a good one. 

Luc. Let's to bed ! lock the door after you. 

[Exeunt ambo. 

Scene v. 

Enter Clean the, sola. 

Cle. How joyfully the birds salute the morn, 
Warbling a welcome from their gentle throats ! 
But I am of another mind, poor maid ! 
Aurora doth no sooner blush upon 
The world, but I make my complaints afresh. 
I am in love, and for my wretched state 
Can blame nobody, but sinister fate. 

Enter Carionil. 

Car . Well met, Anclethe ! I will hide no longer 
Myself in this disguise. Again thou shalt 
Be my Anclethe. Wilt thou be my boy, 
And sing me songs as thou hadst wont to do 1 

Cle. You have obtain'd your mistress, I see, my 
lord 1 

Car. I have not, boy, nor will I seek her more ; 
Some other time thou shalt receive the story. 

Cle. My hour is come ; dear Cupid be my aid ! 
And will you never have another, sir 1 

Car. I do not know, Anclethe ; but if I have, 
She must not be so obstinate as this.* 

Cle. But say a lady of a noble house — 

* " so obstinate as this. 

I soon should leave her if I found her such. " — 1st ed. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 91 

One that is not unhandsome — were in love 
With you, did love you violently, my lord, 
Would you not pity her, but be unkind 1 

Car. Boy, I do know what 'tis to love in vain 
So well, and what a misery is in it, 
That if she were but reasonably well, 
She should not grieve for me ; indeed she should not. 

Cle. You are most noble ! old philosophy 
Never defin'd a virtue which you want. 
There is a lady, sir, and not ill-favour'd, 
Born of an ancient honoured family, 
So much in love with you, that if you do 
Eefuse her, my lordj you do deny her life. 

Car. What is she called, Anclethe 1 

Cle. My lord, my commission doth not reach so far ; 
She'd have her name conceal'd until y'ave seen her. 
To-morrow morning you may meet her here. 
She with a gentleman, a friend of hers, 
Will here expect you about ten o'clock. 

Car. Well, I will see her, boy ! and if I find 
Her answer thy report, I will be kind. 
He that neglects a loving lady for 
Weak causes, may the gods that man abhor ! 

\ Exeunt ambo. 



Act v. — Scene i. 

A Banquet set forth ; then enter Polidacre, Ani'I- 
phila, Servants, and Musicians. 

Pol. You will pardon a sudden entertainment 1 

Ant. I hope we need not compliment. 

Pol. Do you instruct me. 
Sit down, my sweet Antiphila, and taste. Fill wine 
All health and happiness to you, dear mistress ! 

Ant. A true return of loyal thanks. 

Pol. Play a more merry tune ! I do abhor 



92 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Whatever relisheth of melancholy. 

Sing " The spheres are dull ; " 

Apply it to yourself that best deserve it. 

The spheres are dull, and do not make 
Such music as my ears will take ; 
The slighted birds may cease to sing, 
Their chirpings do not grace the spring ; 
The nightingale is sad in vain, 
I care not to hear her complain; 
While I have ears and you a tongue, 
I shall think all things else go wrong. 

The poets feign'd that Orpheus could 
Make stones to follow where he would. 
They feign'd indeed ; but had they known 
Your voice, a truth they might have shown. 
All instruments most sadly go, 
Because your tongue excels them so. 
While I have ears and you a tongue, 
I shall think all things else go wrong. 

Ant. 'Tis pretty ! 

Pol. Eeiterate again your yielding, lady, 
And once more let your breath perfume those words. 

Ant. Sir, I am yours ! 

Pol. And I my fair Antiphila's ! your tongue 
Hath made me happy. 

Ant. May your joy last long ! [Exeunt omnes. 

Scene ii. 

Enter Phylander and Eosinda in woman's apparel. 

Phyl. How glad I am to see you like yourself ! 
Dear mother, pardon an excess of joy. 

Bos. Such signs of true affection need no pardon. 

Enter a Servant. 

Ser. Sir, here's a letter for you. 

Phyl. For me ! from whom 1 The hand resolves me. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 93 

Present my service to the lady that sent it : 
Tell her, ere long I will come kiss her hands. 

Ser. I will, sir ! [Exit Servant. 

Phyl. Mother, I writ unto Antiphila, 
And did desire her, for guerdon of my love, 
To hold me second in her thoughts, and, if 
She married not my father, to have me. 

Bos. She may perform 
What she believed would never come to pass. 

Phyl. The Letter. 

"Sir, — I confess I. am not contracted, and that 
I told you so to make you desist. I should be ex- 
ceeding ungrateful to deny you so small a request. 
There is nothing hinders me from being yours but 
your father ; and I solemnly vow unto you, that if I 
have not him, you shall have me. But let not this 
beget any hope in you, for, if I be not his, it shall be 
his refusal. Let it only manifest so much, that, had 
I never seen him, I could have lov'd you most truly. 
I pray you, let this suffice, and use me so. Choose 
another mistress, and let me be her second ; you will 
love me well enough if you love another better. 
Farewell ! 

Your father's 

Antiphila." 

Eos. What writ you to her, son, concerning her 
Professing a contract betwixt us two 1 

Phyl. That in my rage I met with Tandorix, 
And offered to bereave him of his life ; 
Who thereupon did vow he was a woman, 
And for a gentleman call'd Perimont, 
Who often had denied to marry her, 
That habit did assume, thereby to learn 
More easily what did prevent her joy, 
And whether he affected any other. 
Thus I your being kept unknown. 

Pios. I'm glad you did so ! 

Phi. You do well, mother, to wear a mask ; you 
shall 



94 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Thereby be sure to be concealed until 

You find the fittest opportunity 

Yourself unto my father to reveal. [Exeunt ambo. 

Scene hi. 

Enter Falorus, solus. 

Fed. What will become of me, unfortunate man, 
Who needs must live in fire or live in shame % 
I know not what to speak, nor what to do, 
Both fear and grief do so confound my senses. 
I fear to wrong Carionil so much 
As to be traitorous against our friendship \ 
And griefs unsuflerable endure for the 
Fairest of ladies, incomparable Lucora. 
I would she had been kind unto my friend ; 
Unto him, then, I never had prov'd false. 
Nor will I. I will rather search out frozen 
Climates, and lie whole nights on hills of ice, 
Or rather will take powerful potions, and sleep 
Out these unpleasant hours I have to live ; 
But then I shall not see that beauty. Who 
But senseless frantics would have thoughts so poor % 
My reason forsakes the government of tin's 
Weak frame, and I am fall'n into disorder. 
Oh, I could sigh my body into air, 
And weep 't into a lake, if merciless nature 
Had made it of a substance suitable 
Unto my wish now ! Methinks, I could level 
A promontory into a province, and tread 
The centre through to read the destinies 
Of southern stars, and bless their fortunes that 
Are born under their light, for I am confident 
Their influences are more mild than ours. 
There is no other fate can fall on me 
Shall awe me now ; I will be proud and daring, 
As the ambitious waves, when wrathful blasts 
Of northern winds do hoist them violently 
Against the highest clouds, and rather will 
Destroy myself than wrong Carionil. [Exit Falorus. 



the obstinate lady. 95 

Scene iv. 
Enter Cleanthe, in woman's apparel, and Phyginois. 

Cle. And serv'd my sister well to leave her so. 

Phyg. How much, dear madam, have you im- 
poverished 
Men's eyes by hiding your perfections 
In their apparel ! Indeed, I natter not ; 
I do not know the lady owns such beauty. 

Cle. If my Carionil will like me, then 
I shall attain the end of my desires. 
May I appear but lovely in his eye, 
And what I seem in others I will slight ! 
But, good Phyginois, I prithee, tell me, 
In your affection what success you have ; 
Is Nentis won, or do you hope she will % 

Phyg. She's mine ! we are contracted. 

Cle. Joy wait on you, 
And make your lives of many years pass pleasant ! 
Is it not ten 1 Are all the clocks grown envious 
Against my bliss, and will not let me know 
How nigh his coming is 1 for I esteem 
Myself most happy in his company. 

Enter Carionil, like himself. 

Car. This is the place Anclethe nam'd. 

Phyg. Madam, he's here ! 

Cle. Befriend me, my good stars ! 

Car. Here is a lady, and a matchless one ! 
Would two years since I had beheld this beauty, 
When first I came from Spain and had my heart free ; 
Then many a sad day had been merry unto me, 
For unto her Lucora should have yielded. 
Sweet lady, you that are the fairest creature 
Nature did ever form, vouchsafe so much 
Of happiness unto me as to give 
Me liberty to touch your lips. — [Kisses her.] — Do you 
Know me 1 and have your ears ere heard 



96 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

So poor a name as is Carionil 1 
But I am much mistook ; you are not she 
Whom here I was to meet. I needs must doubt 
The fates did not intend me such a joy. 

Cle. I am ! 

Car. Deceiv'd Pythagoras ! hadst thou but dreamt 
The sweetness of this voice, the music of 
The spheres thou never hadst recorded ! Speak, 
Fairest and best of ladies ; let me hear 
If you have so unmatch'd a pity in you 
As to look on me with a friendly eye. 
Can you love me 1 

Cle. Most noble sir, I do, most violently. 

Car. If that to live with you detained me not, 
I should be griev'd that my joy for so great 
A fortune did not stupify my senses, 
And cast me into an eternal sleep. 
Where is Anclethe ? He is much to blame 
In not attending you. 

Cle. Whom speak you of, dear sir ? 

Car. My boy. 

Cle. I do not know a boy of that name, truly ; 
Nor, I think, is there. 

Car. You do amaze me ! 

Cle. You may believe me, sir, for I am he. 

Car. Wonders in riddles ! 

Cle. I am your page Anclethe, and sister to 
Lucora, who for love attended you 
Disguis'd, because I found, for the great enmity 
Between our families, my father never 
Would give me where I would bestow myself. 

Car. Your nurse did steal you when you was a 
child ? 

Cle. Most true. This gentleman, her son, my 
friend, 
Occasioned my escape, by giving me 
A knowledge of my birth. His true relation 
Can vindicate me from suspicion. 

Car. I need it not. 
Were you not she, as I believe you are, 



THE OBSTINATE LADV. 97 

And mean of birth, I should account myself 
A gainer by you. Sir, you have done that 
Hath placed you in my heart among those friends 
For whose sakes I my life will sacrifice. 

Phyg. My lord, you do indebt me to your service. 
In your acquaintance I shall be most honour'd. 

Cle. Sir, if you please, he will relate my story. 

Car. By no means ; keep it for your father, when 
You do disclose yourself. But can you pardon 
Those incivilities I did commit 
When you was Anclethe 1 

Cle. Wrong not yourself ; you did make more of me 
Than I deserv'd, or could. 

Car. But why, my sweet Cleanthe, would you not 
Let me know who you was before 1 

Cle. Dear sir, I saw how violent you was 
In your affection to my careless sister, 
And had no hope you would leave her for me. 
And, if you did obtain her, meant to do 
What my disastrous fate should prompt me to. 

Car. Sweetest of all your sex ! 

Cle. But, if you never got her and o'ercame 
Her obstinacy, to declare myself ; 
If not, but love had triumphed in your fall, 
I'd not have liv'd to see your funeral. 

Car. The gods requite this goodness, and make me 
worthy 
Of you, my dear Cleanthe. I contract 
Myself upon your lips, which we will perfect 
Ere you own publicly your father, for 
The enmity will make him charge you otherwise. 

Cle. I pray you, let us. 

Car. A thousand thanks. Come ! shall we walk, 
fair mistress 1 

Cle. Conclusions fair the fates to them do give, 
Who constant in their loves and faithful live. 

Enter Faloeus. 

Car. Stay, dear Cleanthe, here is my friend; he shall 
Partake my joy. Well met, my best Falorus ! 
G 



98 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Fal. It seems you are not Tucapelo now. 
Where is Lucora ? have you married her 1 

Car. No, I have not, friend ! 

Fal. Eefrain ! 

I am your enemy; embrace me not ! 
Receive my sword, and pierce this heart, Carionil ! 

[Gives his sword. 

Car. He hath not yet descried you. 
Withdraw a little, dear mistress. Sir, I pray you 
To bear her company, for who can tell 
What in this frenzy he may do 1 

Cle. Hereabouts we will await your leisure. 

[Exeunt Cleanthe and Phyginois. 

Car. What ails my friend ? Let me but know the 
man 
Is cause of this disorder in you, and 
He shall not see the grey-eyed morning break 
From th' oriental mountains any more. 
Let me partake of that unwieldy grief 
Hath bow'd my friend so much beneath himself. 

Fal. Leave compliments, Carionil, and make 
A passage for my soul, that it may leave 
So vile a habitation as this body; 
And, when I'm dead, rip out my heart, and in 't 
Survey my fault, for I want words, and have 
Not impudence enough to tell it you. 

Car. 0, what might be the cause this matchless 
frame, 
And worthiest cabinet that ever man 
Inclos'd his secrets in, is so disturbed 1 
Noble Falorus, think to whom you speak ! 
It is Carionil, whose life you do 
Make burdenous to him by the suspicion 
Of wronging him whom you have ever lov'd. 

Fal. You do deceive yourself; I lately have 
Transgress'd against our league of amity. 
If you desire to be a happy man, 
And to enjoy what most you seek, be kind 
Unto yourself, and run my body through. 

Car. Can I be happy and Falorus dead ? 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 99 

No j I should live a desolater life 

Than e'er the strictest anchorite hath done, 

And wear my body to an anatomy, 

For real sorrow at such a dire mishap. 

Live, then, my friend ! and may you number days, 

Until arithmetic grow faint and leave you ! 

Fal. You know not how much hurt you wish your- 
self. 
Would you torment me twice ] If not, forget 
Falorus utterly, and let me die. 

Car. I understand you not. 

Fal. Would you have me blast my own fame by 
speaking 
My fault, and have me executioner 
Unto myself ? 

Car. Eelease your soul of all her griefs, and say 
From whence your sorrows have original. 
Have you not oft told me of my impatiency 1 
Give me now leave to be as plain with you. 
The angry winds never enrag'd the seas 
So much as some small grief hath done my friend. 
I do conjure you by our former loves, — ■ 
For sure not long since we were friends indeed,— 
To let me know why you are thus distemper'd. 
I do not fear but I shall free you from 
This passion, so precipitate and dangerous. 

Fal. You are most good, and get yourself, Carionil, 
A name above the ablest character ; 
None like it can decipher you. And would 
I always had continued Falorus, 
Then I had yet remain d your friend ! But, if 
You needs must know the reason of my fury, 
Draw out the sword, that, when you have receiv'd it, 
Your hand and not your words may strike me dead. 

Car. Be not importun'd longer ! Ease your heart ! 
For, credit me, I grieve to see you thus. 

Fal. I am in love ; suppose the rest, and kill me. 

Car. With Lucora 1 

Fal. Too true. Now curse me into dust, and with 
Your breath disperse me in the air ; but spare me 1 



100 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Chide me not for my falsehood, and inflict 

But one punishment on me, and be that the sword. 

Yet hear me speak one word or two before. 

I have not woo'd her, nor have. sought performance 

Of that free promise that her father made me, 

But faithfully have temporized with him. 

Nor did I willingly consent unto 

This passion; it did seize me violently. 

Car. Be you more calm. Take her, Falorus ! you 
have 
A liberty for me. I speak in earnest. 

Fal. Then all is well. Return my sword, dear friend. 
Carionil, I will not hinder thee ; [Gives him his sword. 
My name shall not be blasted in thy sighs. 
Fall, worthless man, 'tis pity I should live ! 

[Offers to kill himself. 

Car. What mean you, my Falorus 1 For heaven's 
sake leave, 
And your own light rashly extinguish not ! 
I for Lucora do not care, and have 
All my affection unto her recall'd, 
And am engag'd unto another lady. 
I stole her from her chamber in my disguise, 
And then, bethinking me how she had us'd me, 
I told her that I would not have a lady 
Who would prefer a Moor before me. Her 
Slighting of me made me leave her so. 

Fal. Is this not policy to delay my death 1 

Car. If e'er you found me false, believe me not. 

Fal. It then is true 1 

Car. Most true, Falorus ! 

Fal. License me, friend, now to embrace you. Well 
met, 
Carionil ! and welcomer indeed 
Than ever yet man was unto me. I 
Will live and owe my life unto you, and when 
You please I for your sake will lay it down. 
Freely I may Lucora now adore ; 
And, rather than to lose her, I will try 
All ways that are contained in policy. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 101 

Car. But say she never will consent 1 

Fal. I am 

Most confident she will, to please her father ; 
But, if she should not, I could suffer it. 
'Twas not my love made me thus passionate ; 
It was because in it I wronged you. 

Car. Did you not mark, when you did see me first, 
A joy unusual sit upon my brow f 

Fal. I had so much of sorrow in my heart, 
That with it all my senses were possess'd. 

Car. But you perceiv'd I had left my disguise 1 
What out of it did you collect 1 

Fal. I thought 
Lucora had descried you, and you had 
A peremptory denial to your suit. 

Enter Cleanthe and Phyginois. 

Cle. Sir ! seeing you had made a fair conclusion, 
And measuring each minute for an hour 
Until I were with you, I rudely come 
Uncall'd for to you. 

Car. Ever most welcome, my Cleanthe ! Friend, 
This is the lady I did mention to you. 
She was Anclethe, but is sister to 
The mistress of your thoughts, and called Cleanthe, 
Whom long since all her friends believed lost, 
And have these many years left mourning for. 

Fal. A strange discovery, and admirable ! * 

Car. Some other time command the history ; 
This mutually among ourselves we'll spend. 

Fal. Lady, account me servant to your virtues ; 
And you, sir, may command Falorus always. 

Phyg. Your love will honour me, most noble lord. 

Cle. Sir ! I for you will intercession make 
Unto my sister, and do hope shall prosper. 
I will make known how much you are her servant, 
And what affection my ears have witnessed ; 
For I, unseen to you, did hear what pass'd. 

Fal. You will oblige me everlastingly. 
* "Fal. I am amaz'd." — 1st ed. 



102 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Car. Now, let us walk ! 

Fal. Whosoever loyal friendship doth regard, 
With fair events the gods will him reward. 

[Exeunt omnes. 



Scene v. 

Enter Jaques, solus. 

Jaq. I have a licence for my master and the brave 
gallant Mistress Lorece ; but it cost too much, a- 
conscience. I would a writ five times as much for 
half I gave for it ; but 'tis the fashion among great 
ones, so they have their wills they care not at how 
dear a rate they buy them. This marriage is like 
Christmas, when it comes it brings good cheer with 't; 
we have fat venison — hold, belly, hold ! and wine. I 
am sure we shall want none, for the vintner had 
twenty pounds on me this morning. I ha' bespoke 
a merry company of fiddlers ; oh, they are boon fellows ! 
And there will be old dancing, for I mean to sweat my 
doublet quite through ere I leave. 

Enter Lorece and Vandona. 

Madam, here's the licence your worships sent me for. 
The parson and this will make all sure. 

Lor. 'Tis well done, Jaques ! for this, be thou the 
Neptune of the cellar, raise a tempest and drown who- 
ever doth go down the stairs ; like old Silenus behave 
thyself! 

Van. When we have din'd, let's go to my lord 
Polidacre's, and invite that house. 

Lor. We will, my dear widow. 

Jaq. 'Twill be a merry time, I see. [Exeunt omnes. 



the obstinate lady. 103 

Scene vi. 
Enter Polidacre, Lucora, Antiphila, and Nentis. 

Ant. I wonder we have not seen the Ethiopian 
lord to-day. 

Pol. He'll not be long absent. 
Lucora, thou hast my heart for thy consent ; 
Falorus is a worthy gentleman, 
And one of an approved fashion — 
He doth deserve a Princess. My Lucora, 
I know his nature is most noble, else 
I would not move thee for him, and although 
The time is not expir'd, will you steal 
So much from age and be his wife 1 I long 
To see thee well bestow'd. 

Luc. Whate'er you please t' command, I will per- 
form. 

Enter Falorus. 

Pol. Here is Falorus ! Welcome, my lord, I shall 
Shortly say my son ; my daughter I have won, 
And, when I please, unto you she will give 
Away herself. 

Fed. You are most noble ! 

But can you, fairest lady, look so low 
As is Falorus 1 Can there be such a virtue 
Of rare humility within you that 
You thus confer affection upon me 1 

Luc. My lord, my father desires to make me yours, 
And I have learn' d so much obedience 
As willingly to do what he commands.* 

Fal. I wish I could, most excellent Lucora, 
Thank you in all the languages are worth 
Your dear attention, you have made me so 
Exceeding happy ; I envy not his wealth 
That owns the inexhaustible mines of fam'd Peru. 

Luc. I thank you for this love, and have a hope, 
* "Enjoins me." — 1st ed. 



104 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

If it within my power lyes, I shall 
Kequite you, sir. 

Fal. My joy hath dull'd my senses. 

Enter Lorece, Vandona, and Jaques. 

Lor. Now, brother, have I not ended happily 1 
Vandona is my own ; we only want 
The ceremony ecclesiastical. 
My lord, I am your servant ! 

Fal. I have a mistress got, the richest beauty 
Great Britain ever was renowned for. 

Lor. Much, very much, i' faith ; have you won her 
For whoni hopeful Carionil did die 1 

Fal. I won her not, Lorece ; her father's desire 
Meeting with her consent hath made her mine 

Van. Sister, you have been a stranger to me ; I pray 
you be not so. 

Nen. You shall see me oftener. 

Lor. Thou may'st be Mercury, and I will glory 
Thou art my brother. 

Van. Madam ! I'm very glad to meet you here. 

Ant. And I as joyful of your company. 

Enter Carionil, Cleanthe, and Phyginois. 

Lor. Wonders ! Carionil's alive again, and here ! 

Pol. For some strange end he did give forth his 
death ; 
But what young beauteous lady's that 1 

Luc. It is a face worthy of admiration. [She kneels. 

Pol. Eise, lady; kneel not unto me. 

Cle. Then I were most unfit to be your child. 

Pol. How ! my daughter that was lost ? 

Cle. Yes, my lord ; and beg your blessing. 

Pol. May the good heavens make of thee, my 
daughter, 
If you be she, an old and happy woman ! 

Lac. I am a sister to you ; spare some time 
For me to show how much I do rejoice 
At this unlook'd for good. None of your kin, 
Fair sister, are more glad than I to see you, 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 105 

Whom we had never hoped to see. I am 
Most proud to be so near allied unto 
So excellent a creature as you are. 

Cle. I am most joyful of your love. 

Ant. We are most glad to see you safe. 

Van. As if you were our sister. 

Cle. My thanks, sweet ladies. 

Pol. Dearest Oleanthe ! confirm thy father in 
His joy ; relate thy life, that out of it 
I may grow confident thou art my daughter. 

Phyg. Lady, leave that to me. My lord, and if 
You with her silence can so long dispense, 
I would do that. 

Cle. He is my nurse's son, to whom, my lord, 

I owe all thanks for my escape. 

Pol. Sir, when you please you may begin. 

Nen. What ! not a gentleman 1 I am undone, 
But must be secret in 't. [Aside. 

Phyg. My lord ! 

This lady's nurse, my mother, had a son 
Older than the lady Cleanthe is by seven years ; 
Whom she did love so extraordinarily, 
That for his sake she foully err'd from virtue. 
She thought it was an easy thing for her, 
If that their lives attained to those years, 
To make your daughter wife unto her son, 
Which is the cause she privily escap'd. 

Pol. Most strange ! 

Phyg. By chance I heard this of my brother, who 
Told me, against my mother's strict command, 
What a great marriage he should have, and that 
Cleanthe was the daughter of a lord, 
Your honour's child, 

Whom all we thought but of a mean descent ; 
For she had won the country to believe 
That she did find her in the open field. 
I, pitying her hard chance, did tell her all, 
And promis'd her I would attend upon her 
Until she had her parents happy made 
With knowledge of her safety. 



106 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Cle. The rest I must relate. 

Dear sir, be kind ! and if I have done aught 
You shall dislike, pardon my first offence. 
I was no sooner come to town, but saw 
This noble gentleman, with whom so violently 
I fell in love, that for his sake, pray pardon me, 
My own apparel I did lay away, 
And did become his page. And when I did 
Disclose myself, he kindly did requite me ; 
In brief, we are contracted. 
I did not well without you to do thus, 
But your forgiveness, sir, I cannot doubt. 
He told me that there was a difference 
Between our families, and therefore you, 
If your consent was ask'd, would never yield. 

Jaq. Would I were i' the cellar! I care not for 
these dry and tedious tales. 

Pol. Whether I should or no I cannot tell, 
But I am glad that it hath chanced thus ; 
This match an ancient discord will conclude, 
And may the gods be favourable to it ! 

Car. Most worthy lord, my faithful thanks ! 

Phyg. Here also is a ring which by 
Your father, my Lord Falorus, was given her, 
When at the font he for her answer' d : 
She wor't about her neck when she was stolen. 

Pol. I know it well, and now am confident 
Thou art my lost Oleanthe ; be his wife, 
And may the heavens make up the match most for- 
tunate. 
Carionil, I now am glad I have 
A man so honour'd to my son-in-law. 

Car. My lord, if that I can perform my will, 
You never shall repent your daughter's choice. 

Pol. I do not doubt I shall. Now, I would know 
Why your death was reported % 

Car. I was in love long with your eldest daughter, 
The fair Lucora, but could never win her. 
Brought almost to despair, I did assume 
The habit and colour of a negro. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 107 

Pol. Then you was Tucapelo % 

Car. I was indeed ! 

Knowing she had refus'd the greatest marriages, 
And many of the handsomest of the kingdom, 
I fully did believe she never would 
Like any man of this complexion, 
And therefore feign' d myself an Ethiopian ; 
But first gave out my death, and that unto 
Myself I had done violence for her. 

Luc. Surely he will not do so unworthily 
As to make mention of my fond affection. [Aside. 

Car. But all. could not prevail. 

Luc. I am glad he ends so. [Aside. 

Car. And therefore I desisted wholly ; which, when 
Anclethe saw, my sweet Cleanthe now, 
She did disclose herself. 

Pol. I do perceive the heavens intended you 
Should reconcile our families. 

Jaq. Here's love and love again ! I would some- 
body would love me. 

Luc. My dear sister, you must not think me rude 
Because I do express my love so fully. 

Pol. Be my Carionil ! 
All that are mine respect this lady, for 
I do intend to make her mine. 

Car. We are her servants, and most joyfully 
Shall kneel unto a lady of her virtues ! 

Enter Phylander and Eosinda. 

Fal. What lady's that 1 

Car. She's masked, and I cannot guess. 

Pol. Phylander, this lady is thy sister, the lost 
Cleanthe. 

Phyl. Grow not too weak, my body, to contain 
My soul within thee at these joys ! 
Fair sister, I am glad that I can name 
So beauteous a lady as you are so ; 
For you the heavens be thanked. 

Pol. Carionil's alive, and must be styl'd your brother ; 
Cleanthe him hath chose. 



108 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

Perfect thy joys, Phylander, when thou wilt, 

And hear their histories. 

This lady you must call mother. 

Phyl. But I must not. 

Pol. How? 

Phyl This here I will. 
Dear mother, now confirm my words. [Unmasks. 

Pol. Welcome to life, Rosinda ; thy face and beauty 
I do remember well. But wherefore did you 
Raise the report of your untimely death 1 

Bos. That at a fitter time ; this give me leave 
To spend in joy. 

My dear Cleanthe, for I do believe, 
Because thy father doth acknowledge thee, 
Thou art Cleanthe, my so long lost daughter. 
Never was mother's heart so light ; I cannot 
Utter my joys, my tears must witness them. 
To Time I am indebted that he hath 
Spared my life until I see thee safe. 

Cle. I want expression ; but my life shall be 
A comment on my heart, wherein you shall 
Perceive what your Cleanthe is. 

Phyl. Now you are mine, fair Antiphila ! 

Ant. I will perform my promise. 

Phyl. Both your consents I beg. 

Pol. How's this? 

Ant. I did engage myself, 
That, if I were not yours, I would be his. 

Pol. Then may the knot prove happy, and continue 
A firm one while the gods do lend you breath ! 

Phyl. It is my wish. 

Pol. Was you her servant, too 1 Wife, chide in 
secret ; I was foresworn. 

Eos. We all are frail ; mortality may boast 
Of strength, but many conclusions deny it. 

Nen. Away ! I will have none of you ; I will not beg. 

Pol. You shall not need. I, for his love and care 
Unto my daughter, will give him means befitting 
A gentleman, which shall descend unto 
His posterity ; poverty shall not spoil his fortune. 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. 109 

Van. 'Tis nobly said ! If you do like him, take him, 
sister. 

Nen. Now, I'm content ! 

Phyg. My joy is great ! My thanks, sweet mis- 
tress ! My Lord Polidacre, I am your grateful, 
though unworthiest servant. Now, mistress, you 
shall know the policy I won your affection with : my 
affections being settled so high, and I poor, I made 
myself Draculemion; but your promise, worthiest 
lord, hath now enriched me. 

Jaa. me ! was you that merry fellow ? You have 
a parlous wit. 

Phyg. One thing I must crave of you. 

Pol. You shall obtain, sir 1 

Phyg. That you will pardon my mother. 

Pol. I do, for your sake. 

Lac. Since I perceive you in the bounteous way 
Of granting boons, sir, I assume the boldness 
To become a petitioner to you. 

Pol. My dear Lucora, freely ask, for I 
Doubtlessly shall consent to thy demand. 

Luc. Seeing the gracious heavens have blessed our 
house 
With the recovery of my long lost sister ; 
And since the powers divine have link'd her heart 
To the affections of a noble gentleman, 
A marriage like to grace your honour'd age 
With hopeful nephews ; I humbly crave your licence 
To enjoy the freedom of a single life, 
For I've no inclination to become 
A subject unto Hymen's glorious bondage. 

Pol. Eemember, my Lucora, all your promises, 
And suffer not your obstinacy to cloud 
The happiness of this evening. 

Fal. My excellent mistress ! you have rais'd me near 
The zenith of all happiness, and will you 
Now leave me on that mighty precipice, 
To fall into a sad abyss of misery ? 

Cle. My dear sweet sister! give me leave to trouble you 
With a few words aside. 



110 THE OBSTINATE LADY. 

I saw the Lord Falorus for your sake, 

Between a great affection and firm friendship, 

In as high a passion as you can imagine 

A noble and a faithful lover unto you. 

He in his soul adores you, I am confident ; 

And I'm obliged by promise to become 

His intercessor for your kind affection ! 

I do beseech you, therefore, grace your sister, 

Though bold, being younger, to importune you thus, 

T" honour the Lord Falorus with your love ! 

Luc. I dare not, my fair sister, be so cruel 
As to deny you in your first request ; 
I'll entertain his flame and be his bride. 
I will be plain with you ; had you been silent, 
In a ship bound for Spain I had gone to-night, 
With some ladies of our near kindred, towards Lisbon, 
And so avoided the courtship of Falorus, 
And all my father's continual importunities. 
To make this escape more unexpected, and' 
The better to provide me for this journey, 
I had consented when my father pleas'd 
To marry him ; but your entreaties have 
Prevailed above all my resolutions. 

Fed. Dear madam ! let me beseech your assistance. 

Fos. My lord, I will desire her, and am confident 
I shall obtain. I pray thee, my Lucora, 
Submit to the entreaties of thy friends, 
And let not thy refusal of Falorus 
Beget a sad look on this happy evening. 

Luc. Madam ! you and my sister shall overcome ; 
And though, my Lord Falorus, you may tax me 
For an obstinate disposition, you shall find me, 
Throughout my future days, to make amends, 
And prove a very loving wife unto you. 

Fat Now you have fixed me in a fortunate 
And glorious life. 

Pol. I thank thee, Lucora. 

Jaa. Everybody has his sweetheart but I. One or 
other take pity on me, and let me not be a cypher 
and stand here for nothing ! I see the fault is in my 



THE OBSTINATE LADY. Ill 

years, otherwise serving-men are not so slighted by 
ladies. \To the spectator ladies. 

Pol. Let us withdraw ! you all 
Shall sup with me to-night, and we'll design 
The happy day that shall each couple join. 

Car. You that have mistresses, do not despair 
To get them, be they ne'er so proud and fair. 
One way or other, you have seen it done ; 
The obstinatest lady may be won. [Exeunt omnes. 



THE EPILOGUE. 

Lmora. The obstinate lady yet is obstinate, 
And, careless either of your love or hate, 
She dares continue so. Nor will I beg 
Some friend within to come with his low leg, 
And 's hat in's hand, to woo your praise : It is 
So poor that I had rather hear you hiss. 
Our Poet bade 's be bold, for 's play was good, 
And that 'twould take, if it was understood. 
And so we are ; for what's our fate we must 
And will endure, be 't lawful or unjust. 
Unto your justice we appeal, which lies 
Within your hands. Do what you please, and rise. 

Cleanthe. sister ! this is likely to spoil all. 
Gentle spectators, also give me leave. 
Ladies and gentlemen, if we have said 
Aught that hath pleas'd your ears, or pastime made, 
Our time we have spent well : but if that we 
Have tedious been, and you did sit and see 
With weariness, our Poet will repent 
That you this comedy we did present. 
Y'ave paid the actors well ; we thank you, and know it, 
And wish that you would gratify our Poet. 
He wants no money as the case now stands, 
Yet prays you to be liberal of your hands. 



TRAPPOLIN CREDUTO PRINCIPE 



TRAPPOLIN SUPPOSED A PKINCE. 



H 



Trappolin Creduto Principe; or, Trappolin supposed a 
Prince : An Italian Tragi-Comedy. The Scene, part of Italy. 
Written by Sir Aston Gokain. London, Printed by William 
Godbid, 1658. 



THE ACTORS' NAMES. 



LAVINIO, . 

Sforza, 
Horatio, . 
Barbarino,| 
Machavil, j 
Mattemores, 
Trappolin, 
Mago, . . 
pucannello, 
bulflesh, . 
Calfshead, 
Barne, . . 
Tiler, . . 
Whip, . . 



The great Duke of Tuscany. 
The Duke of Milain. 
Son of the Duke of Savoy. 

Two noble Florentines. 

A Spanish Captain. 

Suppos'd a Prince. 

A Conjuror. 

A Jailor. 

A Butcher. 

A Puritan. 

A Farmer. 

A poor Workman. 

A Coachman. 



A Notary. A Guard. Officers. Attendants. 

Eo, Meo, and Areo, . Devils. 

Hymen, Luna, Mars, \ 
Mercury, Jupiter, V Maskers. 
Venus, Saturn, Sol, I 



Isabella, . 
Hortentia, 
Prudentia, 

HlPOLITA, . 

Flametta, . 
Mrs. Fine, 



Wife to 
Wife to Sforza. 
Horatio's Mistress. 
The Captain's Mistress. 
Trappolin 's Sweetheart. 
A Plaintiff. 



THE PEOLOGUE. 

Gallants, be 't known ! as yet we cannot say 

To whom we are beholding for this play ; 

But this our poet hath licens'd us to tell, 

Ingenious Italy hath liked it well. 

Yet it is no translation ; for he ne'er 

But twice in Venice did it ever hear. 

There it did take, and he doth hope, if you 

Have your old humours, it will please here too. 

He swears he hath not spoil'd it, and protest 

We think it good, though he doth none o' th' best. 

You often have heard worse i' th' house before, 

And had we made the Prologue we'd say more. 

That labour he hath sav'd us, 'cause he would 

No partial friend should cry it up for good. 

An excellent new comedy, as you say 

When you have seen 't, he so will judge his play. 

He is not peremptory, like to some 

Who think that all is best from them doth come. 

Ladies and gentlemen, you that do know 

To censure rightly, as you think, so do ; 

Our poet scorns to beg your hands, yet faith, 

That at the end if he the favour hath, 

This shall not be his last ; that he'll endeavour 

To gratify you shortly with another. 

Howe'er it takes, he for your presence sends 

His thanks by me, and hopes we shall part friends. 



Sir Aston Cokain, in the prologue to this play, advances the 
plea that, although he founded the design upon a piece he saw 
twice during his stay at Venice, it is not a translation. The 
original plot, however, in so far as it relates to Trappolin in 
his judicial character, is borrowed from a story in the Contes 
de Duville. The play appears to have been produced prior to 
the Restoration, and was revived after that event, with a new 
prologue written by Duffet. It was subsequently altered by 
Nahum Tate, and acted as a new piece at the Theatre in Dorset 
Garden, 1685, under the title of A Duke, and no Duke. This 
"farce" was printed in the same year in 4to, "with the several 
new songs set to music, with thorow basses for the theorbo or 
basse viol. " These songs are three in number, but there is no 
marking in the text as to where they were intended to be intro- 
duced. 

The play, so altered, was frequently performed throughout 
the last century, and was exceedingly popular. Nevertheless, 
the editors of the Biographia Dramatica say respecting it : 
" Probability, and even possibility, is broken through, and very 
little wit or humour to compensate for such irregularity. Yet, 
as its absurdities are of a kind adapted to excite the laughter 
of the vulgar, it has been revived at several times with little 
alteration and by different titles, and is even now [1812] some- 
times acted at both theatres, tho' in a very curtailed and 
mangled manner, under the title of Duke, and no Duke.'''' 
Robert Drury, who writes three other dramatic pieces, con- 
verted Cokain's play into " a farcical ballad opera," which was 
produced at Drury Lane in 1732 with much success, with the 
title of The Devil of a Duke, or Trappolin's Vagaries. The 
alterations differed from those of Tate, while twenty-one entirely 
new songs were interspersed throughout. 

A combined version of the two altered editions was printed 
at Edinburgh in 12mo in 1733, "and sold by Allan Ramsay." 
The title is the same as that of Drury, but "as acted at the 
theatres of London and Edinburgh." In this all Drury's songs 
are retained, with exception of the finale, which, from having 
been a duet between Trappolin and Flametta, to the air of 
The Yorkshire Tale, is superseded by a duet between Lavinio 
and Trappolin, to the tune of Nancy's to the Greenwood gane. 
In addition, there are other fifteen songs, all to Scotch airs, 
from which it may be concluded that the publisher — the dis- 
tinguished author of The Gentle Shepherd — was the adapter of 



118 



TRAPPOLIN. 



the piece, and that these songs emanated from his own pen. 
The cast of characters at the Edinburgh Theatre was : — 



Lords, 



Lavinio, Duke of Florence, 

Brunetto, Prince of Savoy, 

Barbarino, 

Alberto, 

Mago, a Conjuror, . . 

Trappolin, a Buffoon — False Duke, 

Quaker, .... 

Captain, .... 

Isabella, Duchess, . 

Prudentia, Duke's Sister, 

Flametta, Trappolin's Sweetheart, 

1st Woman, . 

2d Woman, .... 



Mr. Paterson. 
Mr. Ware. 
Mr. Miller. 
Mr. Fraser. 
Mr. Bulkelley. 
Mr. Wescomb. 
Mr. Price. 
Mr. Mayfield. 
Mrs. Ware. 
Mrs. Woodland. 
Mrs. Miller. 
Mrs. Bulkelley. 
Mrs. Ayres. 



In July 1818 a comic melodramatic burletta, called The 
Duke and the Devil, was produced at Covent Garden, and ran 
for several nights. A magazine notice of the time says it is 
" founded on an ancient tragi- comedy taken from the Italian, 
and titled, Trappolin Creduto Principe; or, Trappolin sup- 
posed a Prince, written by Sir Aston Cokain, and first printed 
in 1658. It possesses an infinite deal of humour. Fitz-William 
played Trappolin, and in his extravagant and ludicrous per- 
sonation of the Duke reminded us of Munden's Sam Dabs, 
and in his drunken scene of Charles Kemble's Cassio, kept the 
house in a continual roar of laughter ; and Miss Beaumont 
sang a sweet song very prettily. " This is the latest account 
we have of this piece, which, with fresh and judicious alteration 
to suit the taste of the present day, might even now be revived 
with profit to some enterprising theatrical manager. 



TRAPPOLIN CREDUTO PRINCIPE: 

Or, TRAPPOLIN SUPPOSED A PRINCE. 

Act i. — Scene i. 

Enter Trappolin, solus. 

My wench Flametta is a dear rogue ; the pretty fool 
dotes on me. My Lord Barbarino can do nothing 
with her ; his pistolles and jewels she cares not for. 
And 'tis a handsome thing ; no pomatum e'er touch'd 
her lips, or paint her cheeks, yet are they cherries 
and roses. I am most happy to be what I am, and 
to have the love of such a one as she. 

Enter Flametta. 

Fla. Good morrow, Trappolin ! how does my love 1 
Tra. First let us kiss, and after I will tell. 
For ever thine, Flametta ! 
Fla. Oh, thanks, my dear ! 

Enter Barbarino. 

Bar. The villain Trappolin has a handsome wench, 
and, which angers me, an honest one. I have spent 
many weeks about her, but never could do any good ; 
she will not, neither for love or money. And see 
where they are a-talking together. 

Tra. Yonder is my Lord Barbarino ! My dear 
Flametta, — I am your honour's servant, — this free 
promise of thine I can never enough thank thee for. 
—At your lordship's command. — How happily shall 



120 TRAPPOLIN. 

we live together in marriage, both loving so well and 
truly! — Your honour's humble slave. — Let us kiss 
again ! — Your poor vassal, my lord. — Thus will we 
spend our days in these delights ; so will we kiss, 
Flametta ! — I beseech your honour to pardon me. — 
We ne'er will be aweary of ourselves ; if thou dost 
sigh, thy Trappolin will weep. — Your honour shall 
command me always. — And when thou sing'st, thy 
Trappolin will dance ! 

Fla. And I am thine, my honest Trappolin, 
And ever will be constant unto thee. 

Tra. I'll attend your honour presently. 

Fla. There's no man alive shall make me prove 
Unfaithful unto thee, so much I love. 

Tra. Your lordship must pardon me a little ; 
I am something busy. 

Fla. My Trappolin shall not bestow a kiss 
But I will pay it him with usury. 
It is impossible for thee to be 
More thy Flametta's than Flametta's thine ! 

Tra. I will come to your honour presently. 

Fla. Pardon, sweetheart ! that now I must be 
gone; 
My stay another time shall make amends. 
A kiss, my dear, my lovely Trappolin ; 
With such I shall be never satisfied. [Exit. 

Tra. Farewell, my dear rogue ! My lord, I come. 
Your honour must pardon me — you saw how I was 
employ'd ; I could not leave the poor fool. Your lord- 
ship sees she loves me, and protest her labour is not 
lost. Now, if your honour hath anything to command 
me, I am ready, — Trappolino, your poor servant ! 

Bar. You are a saucy, peremptory villain, 
And I have well perceiv'd your base demeanour ; 
Although I see the wench is yours, you shall 
Repent the freedom of your evil language — 
Be sure you shall. [Exit. 

Tra. Good morrow, my lord ! 

Let him do his worst, I care not a rush for him. He 
would ha' my wench, and I am glad I abus'd him. I 



TRAPPOLIN. 121 

ha' made his honour something choleric; let him 
digest it how he will. [Exit. 

Enter Lavinio, the Great Duke, Prudentia, 
Barbarino, Machavil, and others. 

Lav. The Tuscan glory have we yet upheld, 
And from the fierce assaults of enemies 
Rescued our cities, set them in a peace 
As happy as the gods did e'er vouchsafe. 
Sforza, the Duke of Milain, our old friend, 
Who hath in all our wars still sent us aid, 
Hath promised me the matchless Isabella, 
His sister, for my wife ; and, seeing now 
We have no more to do with enemies, 
I will to Milan go, and marry her, 
And quickly unto Florence will return, 
Where I will celebrate our nuptial 
With that magnificence becomes our state. 
You, whom I ever have found faithful to me, 
Lord Barbarino and Lord Machavil, 
To you I do commit the government 
Of Tuscany until I return, 
And full commission to do what you shall 
See necessary for the good of Florence. 
My dear Prudentia, the only joy 
Of our deceased father, the last duke, 
Live happy, and enjoy your own desires, 
Which I do know are virtuous all. 

Pru. Most noble sir, it is impossible 
That I should happy be and you not present ; 
But I am unworthy to beseech your stay. 
Go ! and be fortunate in a worthy choice, 
While I to Heaven pray for your safe return. 

Lav. Dear, sweet Prudentia, and also lords, 
Look well unto my prisoner Brunetto ; 
Yet let him want nothing but a free release, 
For sure he is more than he seems to be. 
I have been long about this journey ; now 
All things are ready. My Prudentia, 
Farewell ; and, sister, be not melancholy, 



122 TRAPPOLIN. 

For in few weeks I will return, and bring 
A sister home to keep thee company, — 
The beauteous Milainese. 

Pru. And may she prove 

According to your wishes, noble sir ! 

Bar. And be a joy unto the Florentines ! 

Mac. And be a happy mother, that there may 
Not want an heir unto your highness ! 

Lav. Our thanks. 

Onward ! 'tis time I were upon my way. [Exeunt. 

Bar. Now will I be reveng'd of Trappolin, 
Who hath so boldly to my face abus'd me ; 
I have authority to do't withal. 
I'll make him to repent his sauciness. 

Enter Trappolin. 

He's here ! but I will do 't as if by justice. 

Tra. I can think of nothing but my pretty villain 
Flametta ! 'tis a dear rogue ! and she says she loves 
me, and I know she does. When I have married her 
I will betake me to the country, where we will live as 
jovial as the day is long. 

Enter Mattemores, the Spanish Captain. 

Mat. I'll fight for Florence while I have a vein 
To hold my heart from falling unto death ; 
Nor shall the Longobardy Mantuans 
E'er win a flag while I am in the field. 
I'd make the Tuscan duke to know the man 
Whom he hath trusted to conduct his troops, 
Durst but Gonzaga ever stir again. 
Methinks there is no nobler thing on earth 
Than to see hills of bodies, lakes of blood — 
No braver music than the martial drum, 
Nor diapasons sweeter to the ear 
Than unto it the warlike trumpets make. 
When I but hear this harmony, I could, 
Full of delight, venture my single person 
Against an armed troop. Away with peace ! 
It is the canker and the bane of minds ; 



TRAPPOLIN. 123 

'Tis that which makes us to forget ourselves, 

And spend our lives in sensuality. 

Then glorious war, advance thy armed arm, 

That soldiers may have ways to show themselves ! 

Would Goths and Vandals once again would come 

Int' Italy, or Moors into our Spain, 

That Mattemores might wear out his sword 

With hewing bones and cleaving armed men ! 

Each thing doth to his centre fall, and I 

Would unto mine, which is to fight or die ! 

Who art thou ? 

Tra. II 

Mat. Ay, you ! What ! are you too good to be asked 1 

Tra. I am Trappolin ! 

Mat. By that I know not. Art thou a man of war 1 
Is Trappolin in any captain's roll. % 
Is 't writ 1 

Tra. Yes, Seignior Captain, in the parson's book, 
The day thereof my baptism is set down. 

Mat. And in that honour oft hast thou e'er fought 
With infidels, and slain a score or two 1 

Tra. Not I, heavens be prais'd ! A score or two, said 
you, Captain 1 Then should I sure never escape, for, 
I promise you, many an one is hang'd for killing of 
one. 

Mat. Fie ! what an ignorance is this ! Hast thou a 
mind to become now a soldier 1 

Tra. Indeed, Seignior Captain, I cannot resolve you 
as yet. I am about a wife ; I'll ask her if she will turn 
soldier too, and then, if I like it, there's an end. But 
I pray you, Captain, what is a soldier 1 

Mat. A soldier, Trappolin, is he that does 
Venture his life a hundred times a day — 
Would in his country's and his prince's cause 
Stand cannon shot, and wood of steeled pikes — 
Would, when his body's full of wounds, all night 
Lie in the field, and sleep upon his helm. 

Tra. Good Captain, pardon me ! neither I nor Fla- 
metta will be soldiers. Heavens defend ! Venture 
my life so many times a day? there is more safety and 



124 TRAPPOLIN. 

gain in turning thief ! I love my country and prince 
well, but myself better. 'Tis good sleeping in a whole 
skin ; 'tis better lying with Flametta in a warm bed ! 
Marry, I had thought a soldier had not been such a 
fool ! How many of them might there be in Florence, 
sir Captain 1 

Mat. Thou coward, many hundreds. 

Tra. The gods send them more wit, that's e'en all 
that I can say. But I pray you, sir Captain, now I 
think on 't, persuade my father and mother, sisters, 
and uncles, and aunts, and all the kin I have, to turn 
soldiers, that they may be kill'd quickly, and I be 
their heir. I swear, Captain, you should lose nothing 
by 't ; I would give you a good present for 't. 

Mat. Base coward ! 

Tra. Good Captain, what is the meaning of coward 1 ? 
I have often heard that word, and would fain know 
the true meaning of it. 

Mat A coward is a fellow base as thou, — 
One that doth spend his precious time in sloth — 
Cares not what alterations kingdoms have, 
So he at home may welter in his pleasures ; 
A fellow that had rather sit all day 
Drinking tobacco, and carousing cups, 
Than dye his sword in blood of enemies. 

Tra. Why then, Captain, in faith I am a very 
coward ; 'tis better by half than a soldier. I know 
there is far more pleasure in a glass of good wine and 
a pipe of true Yarines than in bullets whizzing about 
one's ears, and pikes or halberts, or what you will, 
a-beating out one's teeth. 

Mat. Thou dunghill wretch ! 

Tra. Seignior Captain, be not angry, for I vow I 
mean earnest. I should never digest the soldiery life, 
nor, am I sure, would Flametta; and the gods help 
them that do ! 

Mat. Thou earthen - minded slave, 'tis pity thou 
shouldst eat or drink that hast no better thoughts ! 

Tra. Not as long as I pay for 't. What the devil 
have I to do with your soldiery, sir Captain 1 Give 



TRAPPOLIN. 1 25 

me leave to be of my own mind, and a coward, for 
I'm sure no wise man but would say as I do ; let those 
follow your wars that are aweary of their lives. 

Mat. Thou art as dunghill a minded rascal as e'er I 
heard in my life. I would not for anything thou wast 
a Spaniard ; thou wouldst be a slander to the whole 
nation. And, villain, I tell thee if thou wert one I 
would kill thee ; Mattemores would do it, and so I 
leave it. [Exit 

Tra. Farewell, my Sir Don ; go hang yourself ! 
What have I to do with your wars, trow 1 For nothing 
would I venture to fight but Flametta, and for her I 
durst not exceed about it fisty cuffs, or a bout with a 
little pair of cudgels at the most. I should never 
endure to shoot off a gun, not I ; the very noise of it 
would make me endanger my breeches. 

Enter Horatio. 

Brunetto, honest Brunetto ! how dost do ? Be merry, 
man ; this time will have an end, man, and till it come 
be as jovial as thou canst. Thou wouldst e'en 'a bless'd 
thyself to have seen how I vex'd the patience of my 
Lord Barbarin. 

Hora. You have not, sure 1 

Tra. Marry but I have, and to the purpose too ! 

Hora. Then you are undone, Trappolin. 

Tra. Why, man? 

Hora. The Duke has left him and the Lord Machavil 
governors till his return. 

Tra. The devil he has ! 

Hora. 'Tis very true. 

Tra. Troth, then, I am but little better, I fear. 

Enter Officers. 

1 Off. That's he ! 

2 Off. Lay hold on him ! 

Tra. Brunetto, I am undone ! thy Trappolin must 
to the jail. Pray you, my small friends, give me leave 
to speak but one word ; remember me to my sugar- 
candy, Flametta. 



126 TRAPPOLIX. 

3 Off. Away with him ! 

•4 Off. To prison with the saucy rogue ! [Exeunt. 

Horn. I came to Mantua to aid the Duke, 
My uncle, 'gainst his foes the Florentines ; 
Where, hearing every man to praise the beauty 
Of sweet Prudentia, the report did win me. 
Being taken in the wars, I was not sad, 
Because I was to go where she did live. 
But seeing so many Princes all desirous 
To many her, I knew the great Duke never 
Would bestow her on Savoye's second son ; 
And therefore yet I have concealed myself. 
Nor doth she know I am Horatio : 
For want of opportunity, I yet 
Could ne'er so much as sigh within her hearing. 

Enter Prudentia and Hipolita. 

Hip. The Lady Isabella, by her picture, 
May be supposed to be a matchless fair one ;- 
Each feature of her face is wondrous good, 
And her fine head of hair 's a curious colour. 

Pru. In her we shall be happy all, for she, 
The world reports, hath, equal to her form, 
A noble and a virtuous mind. Who's that 1 

Hip. He is your brother's prisoner, called Brunetto, 
That in the wars of Mantua was took. 

Pru. 'Tis a handsome man ! 

Hip. And thought of all the court a gentleman 
Of good descent ; but he hath not disclosed 
His parentage to any. 

Pru. Why doth lie not? 

Hip. That no man knows yet besides himself. 

Pru. How melancholy he doth seem ! 

Hip. He hath good cause for it, madam ; 
Who can be merry in captivity 1 

Pru. 'Tis true. 
A gentleman of good descent suppos'd ? 
I never saw a man of braver carriage, 
Nor one that pleas'd me better than he doth. 
Aha ! 



TRAPrOLIN. 127 

Hip. Why sigh you, madam ? 

Pru. To think of fortune. Perhaps this prisoner 
Is of a house as good as the Medicis — 
He hath lived before the wars of Mantua 
In all the happiness you could desire ; 
And now we see him thus ! 

Hip. Methinks I hear him sigh. 

Pru. And so do I. 

Hip. He's gone ! [Exit Horatio. 

Pru. But with how sad a gait ! 
Methinks I am not as I was before. 
Hipolita ! 

Hip. Madam? 

Pru. Prithee go tune my lute, I have a mind 
To sing a little ; I shall forget to play 
If I so seldom use it. 

Hip. I go, madam ! [Exit Hipolita. 

Pru. I have sent her hence that I might search 
my heart, 
For sure it is not as it lately was ; 
It is so full of thoughts, I cannot find 
The free access into it I had wont. 
What should the reason be 1 what have I done 
To breed this alteration 1 Nothing I. 
Ere I came here I felt myself as free 
From this strange — what it is I cannot tell. 
The place is not bewitched sure, nor have 
I seen aught but this hapless prisoner. 
Alas ! poor gentleman, — for in his looks 
And in his carriage I can guess him such, — 
How little to the fates art thou beholden 
To let thee live a prisoner thus ! How now 1 
What is 't I say?— talk of Brunetto? Oh ! 
I am in love, the gods will have it so ! [Exit. 



128 TRAPPOLIN. 



Scene ii. 

Enter Barbarino, Machavil, Mattemores, and 
Officers, leading Trappolin after them. 

Bar. This man, Lord Machavil, is one of those 
That cloth in Florence nourish vice : he is 
A pander, — one that, if he sees a stranger, 
Straight makes acquaintance with him, for what end 
Yourself may guess. So he may gain thereby, 
He would betray our daughters, lead our sons 
To brothels, vicious and full of rottenness. 

Tra. I wonder how the devil he came to know any- 
thing that I did. 

Bar. This writing yesternight was presented to me. 
Here you may see what enormities he is guilty of. 

Tra. His lordship would show himself a great hater 
of bawdry. 

Mac. 'Tis good we did examine him. 

Mat. And there is not such a coward in Tuscany — 
He's able to corrupt an army. 

Tra. Seignior Captain, never fear it, for I ne'er 
mean to come into one. 

Bar. Bring him before us ! 

Tra. Ah, that I durst tell my lord's excellence why 
he deals thus with me ! 'Tis for a wench, and yet how 
eager he is against bawdry ! 

Off. Forward, Trappolin ! go before their excel- 
lencies. 

Bar. Sirrah ! this paper doth not only show 
You are a rogue, your looks declare you one ; 
Thou hast as ill a face as e'er I saw. 

Tra. And yet Flametta think'st as good as his ; 
I did not lie and if I said a better. 

Mac. Ere we come to this panderism, I'll examine 
him about other matters. Sir, do you never use to 
carry pistols about you 1 

Tra. Sometimes, and please your excellence, I do. 

Bar. Write down that, notary. 



TRAPPOLIN. 129 

Tra. What does your lordship mean 1 I did not 
steal them. 

Mac. I know well enough what I do. Sirrah ! you 
want to shoot somebody ! 

Tra. Beseech your honour to take me along with 
you ; I mean money. 

Mac. That's vain ! then, notary, tear it out. 

Bar. Do you ne'er carry other arms neither % 

Tra. Many times, my lord. 

Bar. Notary, down with it ! he shall be talk'd with 
for that. 

Tra. Your honour is deceiv'd again ; I meant only 
arms upon seals, or scutcheons from the heralds. 

Mac. This is nothing, notary ; tear it out ! 

Bar. A pimp I'm sure he is. 

Mac. Do you never carry no love-letters, as from a 
gentleman to a lady, or a gentlewoman to a cavalier, 
or so'? 

Tra. Oh, very oft, my lord. 

Bar. Do you so, indeed ? Notary, write it down ! 

Tra. Your honour must understand me ; letters of 
love, of friendship, — as when a lady writes unto her 
brother at Sienna, a wife to her husband at Pisa, a 
son to his mother at such a place, a father to his 
daughter married at such a town. I am often hired, 
and carry them to the post. 

Mac. Notary, you must tear out this too ! 

Bar. But, sirrah ! to come nearer to the matter, 
Do you not keep intelligence with whores 1 
Have you ne'er played the ruffian 1 By your means 
Hath no man been provided of a lodging 1 

Tra. This I have no excuse for; the whole city 
knows me a pimp, 
And that it is very nigh my living. 

Mac. What say you, sirrah 1 

Tra. My lords ! I am but a poor fellow, and must live. 

Bar. By bawdry % 

Tra. 'Tis but a friend's part. 

Mac. A wicked one's. Notary, down with this at 
large ! 



1 30 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Alas, my lord, what hurt is it 1 If I help a 
gentleman to a sound wench, where is there any 
fault 1 Good your honours, consider me ; think not 
I am a man alone in this business — that many others 
live by it as well as I. 

Bar. What an impudency is this ! 
Not only to do ill, but to defend it, 
Is a transgression exceeds forgiveness. 

Tra. Good my lord, take pity on me ! Well-a-day, 
what should I do 1 I have not only done a favour 
in it for myself, but also a courtesy for many a 
gentleman. 

Mac. Do not tear out that, notary. 

Tra. Beseech your honours, let him tear't out ! 

Bar. What shall we do with this villain 1 

Mac. Why, let's hang him ! and there's an end of 
him. 

Tra. That's true, i'faith. Consider, my lords, that 
never man was put to death for such a matter, but 
rather that they have been beloved, and well paid by 
noble men and cavaliers. 

Mac. Had we not best to condemn him to the 
galleys 1 or let's banish him ! 

Bar. Ay, that's the best ! 

Tra. Beseech your honours, pity me ! 

Mac. After to-morrow, Trappolin, if thou be'st seen 
in Florence thou shalt die — be hang'd ! we banish thee 
for term of life ! therefore prepare against to-morrow 
to be gone. 

Tra. Pray your honours ! 

Bar. Notary, write down he's banish'd ! 

Mac. You rogue, it is irrevocable, and therefore 
make you ready. 

Tra. I think I am the first man that ever was 
banish'd for such a matter. Were all of my profession 
in the city served so, I think we should make an 
army royal of us. 

Bar. This matter is concluded, Trappolin ; 
Go, seek your fortune ! My Lord Machavil, 
We may depart. [Exeunt. 



TRAPPOLIN. 131 

Mat. Thou man of dirt, hadst thou a soldier been, 
This banishment had never been pronounc'd. 

Tra. But, sir Captain ! I fear I should have been 
kill'd, which is worse. 

Mat. If for thy country, 't had been a noble death. 

Tra. I had rather live, Captain, than die nobly. 

Mat. Thou man compos'd of sand, in vain I spend 
My breath to talk with such a slave as thou ; 
Go and be hang'd ! for so thou dost deserve, 
And might I judge thee, it should be thy end. [Exit. 

Tra. Thou brazen-headed coxcomb, mayst thou go 
to the devil with a drum before thee ! I had as lief 
be banish'd out of my country, and walk in peace, as 
be out on 't in the wars. 

Enter Horatio. 

Brunetto ! Brunetto ! I must leave thee ! I must 
begone, man, to-morrow. Farewell, Florence ! 

Hora. Why, what's the matter, Trappolin ? 

Tra. Why, I have banish'd the Lord Barberino, 
and the Lord Machavil. 

Hora. How 1 you banish'd them 1 

Tra. They have banish'd me, or I them — 'tis all 
one ; ordered away, and the devil a bit a money I 
have. Hast thou a mind to a wench, Brunetto 1 Or 
if thou hast no mind to one, knowest thou anybody 
that has 1 I'd fain be earning a little money. 

Hora. I wish thee well. Live honest, Trappolin, 
And so thou shalt be sure to prosper better. 
This ring I give thee ; sell it, and the money 
Spend to maintain thee. 

Tra. Honest Brunetto ! faith, 
An' ere I can I will requite thee fully. 
Farewell ! I must also take my leave 
Of my Flametta ! We shall cry together, 
Like unto schoolboys that are to be whipt. [Exit. 

Hora. Alas, poor simple Trappolin ! I pity 
Thy fortune, yet 'tis better far than mine ! 
Of all mankind I am most miserable, 
And lead a life would make a soul prove mortal ; 



132 TRAPPOLIN. 

Yet do I not repine. Most dear Prudentia 1 
I never can endure enough for thee, 
So that at last I may attain my wishes. 
There 's not a grief mankind did ever suffer, 
Nor pain, I would not pass to make thee mine ! 
Thou art the centre of my wishes ; — all 
Horatio's thoughts upon thy beauty fall ! 

Enter Prudentia. 

Pru. heavens, be merciful ! and if I tell 
Him I am his, let him say he is mine ! 
I have a fire within my breast must out — 
Longer I cannot hide it ! If he now 
Does not woo me, I shall solicit him. 
How sad a pace he walks ! how melancholy 
Does he look ! Love compels us unto things 
In others we would scorn. I'll speak unto him, 
Because I fear he dares not unto me. 
Brunetto ! 

Horn. Divinest lady ! 

Pru. I thought a gentleman, for so I guess you, 
Could have endured affliction better far, 
That in the wars durst venture so his person. 

Hora. Most excellent Princess, many thousand men 
Can suffer well the dangers of a battle ; 
But there are few, or none at all, that can 
Bear out the passions of a mind afflicted. 

Pru. Then you are discontent. Alas ! you long for 
Your liberty ; and, truth, I cannot blame you. 

Hora. Then should I hate myself, being a slave to 
one 
Whom I desire evermore to serve. 
Ye that command the destinies of men, 
Now let me die, and if I shall not prosper ! 
Know, noblest lady ! that the prisoner 
That speaks unto you is a Prince by birth. 
I am Horatio, second son unto 
The Duke of Savoy, and the Piedmont Prince. 
At Mantua the fame of your perfections 
Captiv'd my soul ; and when that I was took 



TRAPPOLIN. 1 33 

I did account myself a happy man, 

Being to go where you did live. I know, 

Most dearest Princess, that I am unworthy 

So great a happiness as is your love ; 

Yet if you deny me — witness Heaven ! — 

I never will return to Turin, 

But here die languishing for your refusal. 

The Duke, my father, soon would pay my ransom ; 

But thraldom, for your sake, I have esteemed 

Above liberty and pleasures of a court ! 

Pru. My thanks, most gracious heavens ! Bru- 
netto is 
A Prince ! Most worthy, brave Horatio, 
I scorn to dally with my happiness, 
Like some that love to counterfeit their joys ! 
Know I do love thee dear as my own soul, 
And that, if thou hadst now been silent, I 
My heart unto thee had disclosed. Live happy ! 
And, if it in my power lies, thou shalt ! 

Hwa. Doubt, fear, despair, begone ! I am a man 
That envy not the blessed lives of Kings ! 
Now she hath deign'd to say these happy words, 
I care not though all mankind threaten me. 
Most excellent and mercifullest lady, 
Y 'ave raised me to a joy beyond my thoughts ! 
May all the gods requite you for this goodness, 
And I wear out my life to do you service ! 

Pru. My dear Horatio, enough ! I doubt not 
Thy affection 's equal unto mine. We will 
Love while we live ; and may we die forgotten 
When we do cease to love ! Say I not well ? 

Hora. Admired Princess, you outspeak me much, 
But never shall outlove me ! 

Pru. Heavens be kind ! 
And make us in two bodies have one mind. [Exeunt. 



1 34 trappolin. 

Act ii. — Scene i, 

Enter Trappolin, solus. 

Tra. This banish'd life is very doleful ! I walk I 
know not whither, and every step I go Flametta 
comes into my mind. I think how she cried when 
we parted, and swore that she would go too; and 
certainly so she would, if I had not told her she was 
not banish'd, and might not. Farewell, my true Fla- 
metta ! and the devil take the two scurvy lords Bar 
barino and Machavil ; for Captain Mattemores, he is 
a prattling ass. But, by my conscience, he could 
ne'er ha' turn'd me loose for such a matter. Farewell, 
my draughts of Montefiascone, and Bologna sausages ! 
Methinks this is a very melancholy place — I have not 
seen a living body these two hours but they had 
wings or four legs. Let me bethink me whither to 
betake myself, for in Tuscany stay I must not. I'd 
to Eome and turn friar if I had any Latin in me. 
There is nothing of Milain or Naples, without I mean 
to turn soldier for one dinner a day. Farewell, all 
my good suppers I was wont to have ! the wenches I 
help'd gentlemen to ! Venice — ay, that's the likeliest 
place of all; and there I'll follow my own trade — 
I love to be fing'ring of Mons and Polax ryals. 
Well, then, I'll to Venice, and turn pimp ; it is a 
good, gainful life in Italy, full of ease and pleasure — 
especially if the flesh be young and handsome. Me- 
thinks I hear a bustling in yon trees : I hope it be 
not a thief, for then I shall lose the ring Brunetto 
gave me, and may go hang myself. Yon's an old 
man ; and he be one I care not, for sure I shall be 
good enough for him. 

Enter Mago, a conjuror. 

Mago. Son, you are banish'd ; I know all the matter. 
Tra. 'Tis true, old friend ; I am indeed ! But how 
the devil came you to know it % 



TRAPPOLIN. 135 

Mago. Why, the devil told me ! 

Tra. Alas, that e'er I was born ! I pray you, 
father conjuror, do not hurt me ! 

Mago. Son Trappolin, I am so far from hurting 
thee, that thee I do intend to make a Prince. 

Tra. I pray you, pardon me, father conjuror; I 
have no mind to domineer or swagger in hell. 

Mago. You understand me not : thou shalt return 
to Florence. 

Tra. And be hanged there for my labour. 

Mago. Be honoured there, and be suppos'd the 
Duke, who now in Milain is about his wife. 

Tra. Faith, if you can bring this about, father 
conjuror, I should laugh indeed. But suppose it 
could be done, when his Highness comes woe be to 
my neck ! 

Mago. No fear at all. Leave all to me, and but 
remember what I say, and thou art safe. 

Tra. Faith, I know not what to think of this, but 
conjurors can do much. 

Mago. I'll do it, never doubt. Come near to me ! 
Within this circle go, and do not fear though thou 
seest devils skip about thee. 

Tra. Father conjuror, farewell ! I'd rather live 
in banishment than see the devil. 

Mago. Thou silly fellow, do not fear ! In this, 
Myriads of fiends dare not, nor can they, hurt thee. 
Here thou shalt stand as safe from any danger 
As ever thou didst yet in any place. 
Think'st thou I have so little power over spirits 
As they dare disobey what I command ? 
Tell me thy wish, and, if thou hast it not, 
Before thy face I'll sink away with fear. 
Give me thy hand, and come ! 

Tra. Father conjuror, i' faith I wish nothing more 
than what you have promised me already. Could that 
be done, I need ne'er be a pander again. 

Mago. Why do you stay ] 

Tra. Shall I be safe 1 

Mago. As free from peril as you can desire. 



136 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Why, then, I'll venture, being for such a matter. 
But, honest father conjuror, if for fear I chance 
To die, let not your devils take my body. 

Mago. Come, do not fear at all ! there is no need. 

Tra. I will venture ; but I pray you let not the 
devils come too near me. 

Mago. You that below frequent the Stygian lake, 
And in Cocytus' waves do bathe yourselves — 
You that upon the strands of Phlegeton 
Do use to walk, attend unto my charms — 
Appear ! I charge thee to appear, thou fiend ! 
Thou that over man's head power hast, appear ! 
Eo, thou spirit, come ! 

Tra. Good father conjuror, 
Let not the devils be too ugly, lest 
I play the sloven, and annoy your nose. 

Mago. Fear not ! 

Tra. Honest master conjuror, yonder comes your 
devil. Pray you circle me once more, for I'm afraid 
he'll be too bold with me. 

Mago. Not all the fiends that are in hell can do 
The least annoyance to thee, Trappolin ; 
Thou art safe, and so believe thou art. Come, Eo ! 
Give me that hat enchanted. 

Eo. Here it is ! 
Command me aught else 1 

Mago. No, vanish now ! 
Son Trap., observe me well. This hat 
Keep always on thy head ; 'tis Eo call'd — 
One of the things will make thee thought a Prince. 

Tra. 'Tis none of the handsomest ; mine 's of a 
better block. I think some Naples devil made it, 
'tis so high-crowned ; one that saw me in this would 
rather think me a fool than a Duke. 

Mago. Meo, thou spirit of magic glass, appear ! 
I charge thee in dread Pluto's name to come ! 

Tra. More devils yet ! Is the circle sure, father 
conjuror % and 't be not, I pray you take an order 
with it ; I have no mind at all to venture myself 
against the devil. 



TRAPPOLIN. 137 

). Have I not told thee thou art safe 1 Fear not ! 

Tra. Yonder 's another devil ; I think of Moran, 
for he brings a looking-glass with him. 

Mago. Deliver it ! Begone ! 

Tra. I thank you for it, besworn ; for in good 
earnest, father conjuror, I would have as little the 
company of your devils as is possible. 

Mago. But before I give you this mirror, son, 
Eeceive this powder, by magic art compos'd 
And secret spells ! He upon whom thou flingest it, 
It hath such hidden virtue in it, will 
Be took by all for Trappolin. 

Tra. For me 1 

Mago. Yes, certainly, for thee. 

Tra. Say you so % Why then, i' faith, with all my 
heart give it me. I swear unto you, old father, 
the very best man in Tuscany shall be Trappolin. 

Mago. Here, put it up and keep it safe. 

Tra. And I do not, hang me ! 

Mago. Now, are you ready for the looking-glass ? 

Tra. I am very ready indeed. 

Mago. Son Trappolin, this looking-glass was 
wrought 
In the deep caverns of the dark abyss, 
Compos'd of the mud of Phlegeton, 
And with the blood of tortur'd miscreants ! 
It is a mirror I have studied long, 
And now have brought unto perfection. 
This upon thee I do bestow, a gift 
Such as the crowns of Emperors could not buy. 

Tra. And yet, father conjuror, I have seen half a 
dozen better sold for a pistole. 

Mago. They were the work of mortals. When 
thou hast 
A cloak I'll give thee too, but look in this, 
And thou shalt see thyself the Duke ; and if, 
When he returns again, thou meetest him, — 
But throw the powder on him first, — and he 
Begins to rage, bid him look in 't, and it 
Will show him the reflection of thee. 



1 38 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Say you so ] Why, then, give me the glass ! 

Mago. Here ! stand still ! I will now raise up the 
fiend 
That hath the cloak which I have promised thee. 

Tra. Father conjuror, as you love your son Trap- 
polin, give me another 
Circle or two, for I promise you I fear this almost 
worn out. 

Mago. Still thou dost fear 1 Be bold and confident ; 
Hell cannot hurt thee as thou stand'st. 

Trap. Why, then, let him come ! 

Mago. In Proserpine's dread name, our sovereign 
queen, 
Areo, I do charge thee to appear ! 
Thus, by the waft of this enchanted wand, 
I do command thee, fiend, unto this place ! 

Trap. No more, father conjuror ! hold ! here comes 
the devil ! He's a tailor in hell fire, for he brings 
a cloak. 

Areo. Thou against whom fierce Cerberus dares not 
bark, 
Here is the cloak, which, to obey thy will, 
We, that thy servants are, have made. 

Mago. 'Tis well ! 
Begone ! I license thy depart. This cloak, 
Son Trappolin, doth perfect thee the Duke. 

Trap. I know not, but, on my conscience, the 
poorest of his Highness' servants ne'er wear a worse. 
It seems to me to have been made of these miserable 
thefts of a beggarly tailor, 'tis of so many colours ; and 
for the fashion of it, by your leave, father conjuror, 
'tis very clownish, and something inclining to the 
fool's fashion. 

Mago. Thy words, son Trappolin, are vain. Those 
counts 
And marquesses that swagger it in gold 
Shall not appear so glorious to the eyes 
Of men as thou in this. 

Tra. Father conjuror, I'll be rul'd by you ; put 
on ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 139 

Mago. Thou art the great Duke now in show ; the 
wisest 
Judgments will believe thee so. Now take the glass 
and see thyself in 't. 

Trap. Beseech your Highness, pardon me ! I am 
A poor subject of yours, for a small matter 
Banish'd by envious lords. 

Mago. Why, Trappolin, what folly is this % 

Tra. Besworn to you, father, I thought I saw his 
Highness, and was a begging to be pardoned. 

Mago. Away with ignorance ! 'twas thy reflexion. 
As thou didst seem unto thyself, so thou 
Shalt likewise to the world appear. Now, mark 

me ! 
Not one of these can make thee like the Duke ; 
They altogether do. Ne'er leave them off 
Without thou art secure ; for, one but missing, 
Thou wilt appear thyself. The hat is call'd 
After the devil's name that brought it, Eo ; 
The looking-glass, Meo ; the cloak, Areo ; 
And there are fiends within them. 

Tra. Father conjuror, I thank you for your kind- 
ness ; take all your ware again ! Carry so many 
devils about me? so I shall be sure to be carried to 
the devil by 'em ! 

Mago. Suspect no hurt ; they can as well destroy 
Their immortality as do thee harm. 

Tra. Why, then, honest father conjuror, I'll ven- 
ture myself among them. But I swear unto you, if 
they begin to stir, I'll e'en fling them all away without 
more ado. 

Mago. Farewell, son Trappolin ! return to Florence, 
And flourish in the pleasures of the Court ; 
Other affairs command me to be gone. 
Give me thy hand ! Farewell, son Trappolin ! 

Tra. Be not so hasty, my dear old father ! one 
word before you go. How shall I say that I bring 
not my Duchess with me, but come alone 1 

Mago. Why, anything — what you will. 

Tra. I'll make 'em believe, then, that I licensed her 



140 TRAPPOLIN. 

to stay as long as she pleases, and that I came alone 
to see how they governed in my absence. 

Mago. 'Twill do ! Now, have you done with me 1 
Tra. I have. I thank you for all your things here. 
Fare you well, honest father conjuror ! [Exit Mago. 

Tra. Now, Trappolin is no more Trappolin. 
What I am in my glass I'll look again — 
The great Duke ! Ha ! 'tis well — 'tis very well ! 
This scurvy cloak doth seem his gallant one, 
And this base hat his Highness' beaver ; my face, 
My body, legs, and all seem changed ; — i' faith, 
The conjuror is a wondrous learned fellow. 
You scoundrel lords that banish'd me, I'll make 
Sport with your scurvy honours, that I will ! 
Eo, Meo, and Areo, attend 
Unto your offices well, and guard your friend ! 



Scene ii. 

Enter Sforza, the DuTce of Milain ; Hortentia, the 
Duchess; Isabella, his sister ; Lavinio, the Great 
Duke ; with Attendants. 

Sfor. Most noble brother, — for so the temple rites 
Of Hymen done do license me to call you, — 
Honour our entertainment one half hour 
Longer, and we will leave you with your bride. 

Lav. Great Prince ! the glories you have done me 
here 
I leave to future chronicles to tell ; 
And still you do increase them ! Sure no man 
In Milain ever did receive such honours. 
You always shall command me, 

Sfor. Sir, we deserve no compliments ; we have 
Our wishes if you but rest satisfied 
Of our good meaning. 

Lav. Most gracious madam ! the Roman Emperors 
Would have wondered at your Court had they but 
known it. 



TRAPPOLIN. HI 

Which of them all would not have bless'd his fates 
For the fruition of so rich a beauty 
As is the matchless Lady Isabella 1 

Isa. Sir! of your own you may say what you 
please, 
But I am sure you overpraise me much. 

Lav. Dearest of all the world ! thou dost deserve 
Princes and poets both to speak thy worth ! 
Bless'd be the powers divine, that me of all 
Mankind did choose to make most fortunate 
In giving me the glory of the earth ! 

Sfor. Sit down, most noble brother ! from your 
bride 
We will not part you. Sister, this place is yours. 
So let them now begin ! 



Enter Hymen, Luna, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, 
Venus, Saturn, Sol, after music. 

Hym. Hither we are descended from above, 
To gratulate your nobly-grounded love, 
That you, most worthy happy pair, should know 
The gods themselves are pleased with what you do. 
Me you have honoured, and to honour you 
I have brought the deities along which do 
Command and rule the days, that they may bless 
You all the year with plenteous happiness ! 
May Tuscany's cities boast of Milain's spouse ; 
And future ages, when they would compose 
One grac'd with all the virtues, her express 
To be a lady like this Milainess. 
And may the most ingenious Florentines, 
Your citizens, great Duke, busy their minds 
In writing and in singing marriage songs, 
Delectable epithalamiums ! 
While you do live, love ever ; and may you 
Continually your generous heats renew. 
Thus Hymen wishes, and it will go hard 
If what a god says gods do not regard. 



142 TRAPPOLIN. 

Thus I could spend the night, but that would prove 
A wrong unto my rites and to your love ! 

Here they dance, and Hymen leads it. 

Luna. Cynthia I am, that with my borrowed light 
Outshine the stars, and do command the night ! 
Many a time, when else I veil'd would ride, 
I will appear to see you with your bride. 
Lamps nor wax-lights you shall not need, for I 
Instead of them will evermore be by ; 
And may you, in this life you have begun, 
Equal in love me and Endymion. 

Mars. Though my aspect be fierce, and wars pre- 
sage, 
To you they shall be such as lovers wage, — 
Sweet kisses, soft embraces, and such things 
As amorous Queens enjoy and amorous Kings. 
You therefore, without pity, both may fight 
Battles, not full of danger, but delight ; 
And may they last until I part you two, 
Which I do promise I will never do ! 

Mer. Hermes I am, Maja's wing'd son, and shine 
Among the planets in a globe of mine ; 
And though 'tis true I favour thefts and sleights, 
Yet will do none t' diminish your delights. 
Love, therefore, laugh, and kiss, embrace, and be 
Secure — nothing can hurt you without me ; 
And if I ever do, may I forego 
My sphere, and live among the fiends below ! 

Jwp. Of all the gods and goddesses I am 
The most supreme, and bear the chiefest name. 
For love, what is it that I have not done, 
To bring my wishes to conclusion? 
I for myself have done no more than I 
Will do for you to make you live in joy! 
Therefore, most happy pair of lovers, fear 
Nothing, since Jove himself doth hold you dear ! 
Live merrily, and let this be your mover, 
That Jupiter himself was once a lover ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 1 43 

A Song. 
Fen. Since in my orb I shined fair, 
And lovers did befriend, 
The morning and the evening star, 

I never could command, 
Heaven-blessed pair, none like to you, 
Whom time shall never make untrue ! 

May Hesperus and Vesper lose 

Their lights, fair Venus fall, 
If all her power she doth not use 

To prosper you withal ! 
May other deities grant you life, 
I'll make you loving man and wife ! 

Sat. Though I am old and rigid in aspect 
And cold, and youthful sports do not affect — 
And though my influences many ways 
Adverse to others be, and cross their days — 
For you, heaven-loved pair, myself I'll force, 
And run a milder and a gentler course ; 
His ancient custom Saturn will forget, 
Rise for your pleasures, for your pleasures set. 
Doubt me not, therefore, for my vow is strong, 
That for your sakes again I wish me young. 

Sol. Phoebus I am, the glorious guide of day, 
That all the planets lighten with my ray. 
I am the brightsome, lightsome charioteer, 
That heaven and earth adorn within my sphere ; 
And know what 'tis to be in love, since I 
Followed my Daphne, who from me did fly. 
May I lose all my glory, all my beams 
Fall like my Phaethon hit' ocean streams, 
If all my faculties I do not try 
To make you live in joy, and love enjoy. 
In summer time, when you int' arbours go, 
I will not shine to trouble you below ; 
Will only peep to see you kiss and smile, 
To make me think, this I have done ere while. 
In winter season, when the frost doth stay, 
And hinder rivers to go on their way — 



144 TRAPPOLIN. 

When flakes of snow do cover earth's green face, 
I for your sakes will thaw off both apace. 
In pleasures evermore you shall accord ; 
Apollo cannot falsify his word. 



Here they dance another dance, which Hymen 

Hym. The gracious planets, which command the days 
By powerful influences, you have heard, 
To bless you both according to their ways, 

Vowing to be your keepers and your guard. 
Them for your sakes with me I brought along, 

That they might prosper you as well as I ; 
Because this marriage knot I'd tie so strong, 

That it there nothing ever should untie. 
You whom the heavens will prosper all your 
life, 
You whom on earth there's nothing can 
offend — 
Most happy pair, most happy man and wife, 

Your lives in love wear out, and in love end. 
Nor shall a poet, hired for his gain, 

Upon your tomb a feigned verse engrave 
Men's tongues and tears shall make you both 
remain 
Above the power of an epitaph. 
But may you live till you aweary be, 

Not of youselves, but of these earthly sports ; 
And the eternal joys above would see, 

Which ever are in Jove's immortal courts. 
Thus unto you do gods their wishes give, 
And unto them may you according live ! 

[Exeunt Maskers. 
Sfor. I think, Hortentia, now the mask is done, 
Our brother gladly would go to his rest. 

Hort And it is time. Most noble brother, when 
You please, we will attend you to your chamber ; 
And, sister, we will see you laid in bed. 
Methinks it is a very pretty thing 
To see a virgin bride look pale and blush. 

ha. 'Tis sport to others, to the maid 'tis none. 



TRAPPOLIN. 1 45 

Lav. Most excellent Princess, when you please, let's 
go! 
For now each minute is as tedious to me 
As years have been, so much I do desire 
The chaste embraces of my matchless spouse. 

Sfor. And, worthy friend, let us entreat your stay 
As long in Milain as is possible ; 
You cannot be in Florence more beloved, 
Nor by the better nor the meaner sort. 

Lav. What I can do you know you may command 
Unto my utmost power. 

Hart. Lights! 

Lav. My fairest, dearest love, your hand ! This part 
Of happiness makes me suppose the rest. [Exeunt. 



Scene hi. 

Enter Mattemores. 

Mat. Those lazy times that do degenerate minds, 
And breed new thoughts in most heroic hearts, 
By noble spirits are to be abhorr'd, 
And loathed as the ruin of their souls. 
Whilst I did follow the triumphant war 
Through fire and blood, I was a happy man ; 
I thought no pleasure was a parallel 
To the loud cry of mortal-wounded foes. 
But now I am transformed from myself; 
Hipolita hath charm'd me with a look. 
May I but hear her speak, how I rejoice ! 
May I but hear her sing, I think me blest ! 
0, how my heart's ashamed of my tongue, 
Which never until now effeminate thoughts] 
Could win upon ! 0, would to heaven this lady 
Were but a man, and circled round with death, 
That I might kill her and release myself ! 
Or were she like the warlike Amazon, 
With whom renowned Theseus did contend, 
That with my honour I might challenge her 
K 



146 TRAPPOLIN. 

For an enchanter and a witch ! How fondly 
And foolislily I rave ! Strongest resolutions 
A woman's powerful beauty doth destroy; 
He that can conjure men, unpeople towns, 
Cover the sea with fleets, drink rivers dry 
With armed squadrons he conducts to fight, 
Whom potent Monarchs fear, and Emperors wish 
To make their friend, a lady's smile or eye 
Subdues above resistance, and makes die. 

Enttr Horatio and Prudentia. 

Hora. Most dearest, worthiest Princess, I am blest 
Above the proudest of my former wishes ! 
Your love to me was like a thing desired, 
But far from expectation ; as men 
Forlorn and wretched, being content to die, 
And sure to suffer, wish to live, although 
They fully do despair of life. Of late 
Even so was it with me : I lov'd you 
Above my life's expression, but did ever 
Despair the blessedness of such an honour. 

Pru. My dear Horatio, I cannot speak 
So well as you, but I can love as truly. 

Mai. A strange discovery ! I will retire 
More close, and hear the rest. 

Pru. And, noble sir, 
Because I know my brother, the great Duke, 
Will not at all or scarce allow this match, 
I will with you. whensoever you command, 
Leave Florence, and what fortune it shall please 
The gods to send us bear with cheerfulness. 

Hora. Excellent, merciful Prudentia ! 
I must pray Heaven make you a full requital, 
For I shall ever be unable. 

Pru. I cannot stay longer with you now; 
At our next meeting I'll cloy you with 
My company. A kiss ! 
Farewell, my heart's best pleasure ! [Exit Prudentia 

Hora. Let others travel Italy all over, 
To talk of such a city, such a place, — 



TRAPPOLIN. 1 47 

Go to magnificent and holy Rome, 
Once the sole empress of the conquered world ; 
To Venice rich, commanding, politic ; 
Unto sweet Naples, plenteous in ability ; 
Unto great Milain ; unto fat Bologna ; 
Civil Ferrara, Ariosto's town ; 
Strong-walled Padua, which Antenor built, 
The Trojan prince, and Titus Livius fames 
For his nativity and sepulchre ; 
To subtle Bergamo, most highly honoured 
For near relation to Torquato Tasso ; 
To proud and stately Genoa, renown' d 
By her seafaring citizen Colombo ; 
Worthy Verona, old Catullus' city ; 
Bloody Peruggia, warlike Bessia ; 
Glorious Mantua, Virgilius Maro's birth-place ; 
Good Bimini, iron Pistoya; 
Fine-languag'd Sienna, and industrious Lucca ; 
Odd-humour'd Forly, honest old Ravenna ; 
Ill-aired Simegallia ; Capua, 
Effeminate and amorous, wherein 
The Carthaginian captain's soldiers were 
Spoil'd and debauch'd with pleasures; Pisa hang- 
ing; 
Pesaro, a garden of best fruits ; Ancona 
Prais'd for the Port Loyal ; and true Urbino, 
Round Ascoli, long Recanati, built 
Upon a steep hill's ridge ; Foligno, full 
Of sugry* streets, among the Apennine ; 
Faro, for handsome women most extoll'd ; 
And Modena, happiest of them all, — 
From beauteous, comely Florence, when I part 
Without Prudentia, thunder strike my heart ! [Exit. 

Mat. A gallant resolution ! For the man, 
I cannot blame him ; but the Princess, she 
To look so low and dote upon a slave, 
Seems very strange and full of wonder to me. 
Had Delphian oracles, ever ador'd 
For uttering truth, spoke this, I should have doubted ; 

* Soft clayey streets ? 



148 TRAPPOLIN. 

She whom we thought a saint, a pattern for nuns, 

Thus to forget herself ! it doth amaze me. 

women, I could rage against the sex ! 

And, lov'd I not Hipolita, I would. 

She cannot hear me, and I needs must speak 

A word or two. They are all false, and fickle all, 

The poison of men's happiness ; within, 

Though they are fair without, most full of sin. 

Enter Bakbarino and Machavil. 

Bar. Good morrow, Captain Mattemores ! 

Mac. How do you, Captain ? 

Mat. Your honour's humble slave ! I am well, but 
sad; 
And so had all the court good cause to be, 
Did they but know so much as I. 

Bar. Why, Captain, 
What's the matter % 

Mat. I'll not be silent, for her honour's sake. 
Prudentia, the Princess, is in love. 
With whom do you suppose, my lords ? 

Mac. I think with none, for we all know she yet 
Hath slighted Modena's and Parma's Duke, 
And seem'd careless of mankind. 

Mat. Alas! 
She were most happy were it one of them ; 
It is Brunetto she's in love withal. 

Bar. Howl 

Mac. Impossible ! 

Mat. It is a thing most true ; my eyes and ears 
Have seen and heard it while I stood unseen. 

Mac. You amaze us I 

Bar. It is a thing I never should have thought, 
Though spent my life in fond imaginations. 

Mat. As I have seen an amorous cloud receive 
A stately hill into her lovely breast, 
And of his lofty head our eyes bereave, 
And seem to lull his senses unto rest — 
So did the scornful lady deign to leave 
All her majestic state ; and, sore opprest 



TRAPPOLIN. 1-49 

With inward flames, her eager arms she cast 
About his neck, kiss'd and embrac'd him fast. 

Bar. Wonders ! 

Mac. How the great Duke will rage ! 

Mat. And do you not, my lords, in time prevent 
them, 
They'll steal away, I fear ; for so she vow'd, 
When he but said the word, she would. 

Mac. By his imprisonment we'll hinder that. 

Enter Horatio. 

Bar. Here is the man we spake of ! 
Mac. For the Princess' honour let us keep it close 
As possible we can. You of the guard ! 

Enter the Guard. 

Bar. Seize on Brunetto, carry him to prison ! 
Bid Puchannello keep him safe I 
'Tis our pleasures. 

Hora. What violence is this ? 0, had I been suffered 
to wear a sword, some of you should pay dearly for it ! 

Mac. Away with him ! 

[Exeunt the Guard with Horatio. 

Mat. My lords, you have done wisely to prevent 
So great a dishonour as might have ensu'd — 
Tainted the family of the Medicis, 
And been a lasting sorrow to the Duke. 

Enter Trappolin. 

Bar. His Highness is returned. 

Mac. Great sir ! upon our knees we welcome you. 
You come unlook'd for ; we did not expect 
This happy time so soon by fourteen days. 
Where is our Duchess 1 

Tra. Your Duchess will not come till the gods know 
when, for I do not : I have given her leave to stay as 
long as she will. But besworn, I fear you have 
governed but scurvily in my absence ; I hear that 
you have banished an honest poor man call'd Trap- 
polin ; is it true 1 



150 TKAPPOLIN. 

Mac. So please your Highness, he deserv'd no less. 

Tra. Why, what hurt had he done 1 Had he 
knocked anybody on the head 1 What was his fault 1 

Bar. He was a pander, and corrupted youth. 

Tra. You lie, sirrah! not panders but whores do 
that, and not they neither if they be sound. Banish 
one of my subjects for such a matter? Besides, were 
there no more in Florence but he 1 

Mac. Be not displeased, we humbly pray your 
Highness, 
For we did think we did it for the best. 

Mat. I wonder at our Duke in this. 

Tra. Well, I am very weary. I left all my train 
behind with my wife, and rid as fast as I could drive, 
that I might come unlooked for, the better to see 
how you behaved yourselves ; which you have done 
bad enough. When I was almost at Florence, a saucy 
varlet robbed me and stole my horse from me, so 
that I was beholding to my legs to bring me hither. 
Barberino and Machavil, come you hither both of you ! 

Mac. What is your Highness' pleasure 1 

Tra. Sirrah Barberino ! hold by Mach.'s breeches, 
and stoop, for on thy back I will ride to my palace. 

Bar. I'll go fetch a coach for your Highness. 

Tra. The devil take your coaches ! Stoop, I say, 
without more ado ! Where is your obedience 1 

Mat. I think the Duke's run mad, or foxt soundly 
at the least. I know not what to think of this. 

Tra. You, sirrah Don ! run by my side ; supply my 
lackey's office. Wonder not, but obey ! 

Mat. There is no remedy. Heaven be merciful ! I 
think his Highness ran mad for fear when he was 
robbed. 

Tra. Now on, and do not loiter ! 
Thus, like the Roman Emperors, will I ride 
To triumph through Florence. Stumble not, you had 

best. 
Chariots them carried, a Tuscan noble me : mine is 

the statelier and the braver way. 
Eo, Meo, and Areo, thanks ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 151 

Mat. He jeers us, and miscalls us. 
Tra. On apace ! 
That I may quickly be in my palace. [Exeunt omnes. 



Act hi. — Scene i. 

Enter Horatio, in prison. 

Hora. Unto the man enthrall'd, black and obscure 
Is the clear beauty of the brightest day ; 
Through iron grates he only sees the light, 
And thereby doth increase his misery. 
Those whom he doth perceive in joy to pass 
Augment his wretchedness, by making him 
To think that thus I lately was myself. 
But, admirablest lady of the world, 
Divine Prudentia ! may I die abhorred 
By all mankind if I repine at all, 
Seeing for thy sake I do suffer this ! 
The exquisitest tortures curious inventions make, 
For thee I would think sports, and undergo : 
May'st thou live happily and free from care, 
And all my miseries of no moment are. [Exit. 

Enter Trappolin. 

Tra. Eo, Meo, and Areo, faith you are all brave 
devils all on you, and my father conjuror an excellent 
fellow. I love to see myself. Meo, thou art not the 
work of Moran ; no, the Duke himself I seem. I now 
must learn to walk in state, and speak proudly. I'll 
play such tricks with my lord banish ers shall make 
me sport enough. Banish a poor man for doing 
courtesies ! it is against the law of friendship. I am 
supposed a Prince ; the Florentines acknowledge me 
the great Duke. Whatever I do, though never so 
bad, passeth with approbation. Poor Trappolin turned 
Duke ! 'tis very strange, but very true. 



152 TRAPPOLIN. 

Would the fates favour panders in this wise, 
He were a fool, besworn, would not turn pimp. 
Seeing panders Dukes become, he is an ass 
That may hav't, will let the office pass. 

me, Brunetto ! Alas for thee, man, how cam'st thou 
there ? I think in my heart, an there be a mischief 
in the world, thou wilt be at one end or other on 't. 
So ho ! Pucannello, Pucannello ! 

Puc. Who calls 1 

Enter Pucannello. 

Tra. That do I, sirrah ! let me Brunetto out pre- 
sently, and bid him come to me. 

Puc. Your Highness' pleasure shall be done. [Exit. 

Tra. Alas, poor Brunetto ! marl what he has done 
to be locked in such a place. I think in my con- 
science 'tis not for any lechery, for I could never 
get him to 't, and many a time I have offered him 
many a good bit. Brunetto to come into the jail ! 

1 cannot tell what to think of it ; but be 't for what 
it will, out he goes. My good friend Brunetto, who 
gave me a ring, shall not lie there. Honest Bru- 
netto ! 

Enter Brunetto. 

Hot a. Great Prince ! 

Tra. He makes a very low leg, but I will not be 
outgone in courtesy. 
Dearest Brunetto ! 

Hora. Your Highness doth forget yourself exceed- 
ingly ; I am your prisoner. 

Tra. My best friend, good Brunetto ! 

Hora. Beseech your Highness to remember your- 
self. 

Tra. So I do, but never must forget thee. I am 
glad to see thee in good health, dear Brunetto. 

Hora. I shall fall to the ground even now in this 
salutation. Beseech your Highness, I am your pri- 
soner, your slave. 

Tra. I am thy servant, Brunetto ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 153 

Horn. Wonders ! I am astonished ! Upon my 
humble knees I do congratulate your safe and speedy 
return. 

Tra. And upon my knees I do embrace thee, 
Brunetto. Thou art an honest man, my most sweet 
Brunetto ! 

Hora. I know not what to think, nor what to 
speak. Beseech your Highness, rise ! 

Tra. Not without thee. Up, Brunetto, honest Bru- 
netto ; up, I say ! 

Hora. Beseech your Highness, I am your humble 
slave ! 

Tra. I am thy servant, Brunetto ; and as long as 
thou liest on the ground, so will I too. Up, therefore ! 
let us rise and talk. Away with your compliments ! 
I cannot abide them. Up, I say, let's rise ! thou shalt 
not stay, I swear. 

Hora. I am amazed ! by force I must obey. Great 
sir, I know not what to think ; you honour me above 
all expression. 

Tra. Honour a fig ! I love thee, Brunetto. Thou art 
a good honest fellow ; I love thee with all my heart ! 
Compliment with me, and I will be very angry. 
Without more ado, I tell thee I love thee ! Pucan- 
nello, so ho ! Sirrah Pucannello, bring two chairs 
hither presently ! 

Hora. Your Highness ! 

Tra. Away with Highness ! I say away with it ! 
Call me Lavin Duke, plain Medicis ; I cannot abide 
your Highness, your Excellency, your Worship— I 
hate such idle flim-flams. Dear Brunetto, how I love 
thee ! I' faith, I do, with all my heart ; and if I lie 
unto thee, I would I might be hanged. 

Hora. Sure I am awake ; this is no dream ! 

Tra. We will live merrily together ; i' faith we will. 
Brunetto, how glad I am to see thee in health ! Come, 
sirrah ! what a while ha' you been a bringing a couple 
of chairs ! Set them here, sirrah, and begone ! 

[Exit Pucannello. 
Brunetto, sit thee down ! sit down, my man, I say. 



154 TRAPPOLIN. 

Hora. I will attend your Highness on my knees. 

Tra. Why, I am not thy father, am 1 1 Leave fool- 
ing, and sit thee down, that we may talk together. 
Sit thee here ! I will have it so. 

Hora. I am astonished ; I humbly pray your High- 
ness ! 

Tra. Pray me no praying, but sit thee down ; sit 
thee here, man ! Brunetto, be ruled ! 

Hora. On the right hand 1 ? I know not what to 
think. 

Tra. I am something a-weary, Brunetto, and will 
not sit without thee ; therefore, I pray thee, make 
me stand no longer. Obey me ! for I am the Duke. 

Hora. Here, then, so please your Highness. 

Tra. Why, an thou wilt have it there, there let it 
be ; but I am mistook that's on the left hand. What ! 
do you think me a clown and without breeding, that 
I have no more manners in me 1 For shame of the 
world, sit thee down, Brunetto, sit thee down, and 
without more bidding, without thou wilt ha' me lie on 
the ground, for I am so weary I can scant stand. 

Hora. There is no remedy ! I must obey. 

Tra. So, well done ! Sit still, man ! What art 
doing ? — art afraid of me 1 

Hora. What does your Highness mean 1 

Tra. Marry, and thou draw'st back, I'll draw back 
too. Brunetto, sit thee still, and let us talk. 

Hora. I will obey your Highness. 

Tra. Highness me no more ! Highness, I cannot 
abide it. My name is Lavin — call me Lavin Duke ; 
and 'tis enough, a conscience. 

Hora. Great sir, I am far unworthy of these 
honours ; 
The noblest Florentines would be most proud 
To be thus graced by their Prince. 

Tra. I like not these set speeches neither. Let us 
talk as we were companions in a tavern together, 
and not after the court fashion. I am as weary of it 
as a dog ; I am, Brunetto. Prithee, man, how cam'st 
thou into the gaol 1 



TRAPPOLIN. 155 

Hora. pardon me, dread Sovereign ! 

Tra. On thy knees, man 1 What meanest thou by 
this 1 dost take me for Mahomet % As well as I can 
pardon thee, I do — anything, whate'er it be, though 
thou hast killed everybody. Eise, therefore, I say, 
Brunetto, and set thee in thy place again, or I'll 
kneel too. 

Hora. Most merciful Prince, hear me before, lest 
you 
Repent your kindness towards me afterward. 

Tra. Up, I say, Brunetto ! up ! I pardon thee any- 
thing, upon condition thou wilt rise and sit thee 
down. 

Hora. It is your Highness' will. 

Tra. Now, good Brunetto, without any fear, — for I 
swear unto thee I do not care what thou hast done, 
and forgive thee, whatsoever it be, — tell me the cause ! 

Hora. Dread Sovereign, I was for love put in. 

Tra. Who put thee in 1 

Hora. Your Highness' governors, Lord Barberino 
and Lord Machavil. 

Tra. They are a couple of coxcombs for their 
pains. Who art in love withal 1 

Hora. pardon me ! 

Tra. Sit still, or I will not ; and if thou dost, I 
will. 

Hora. Your Highness' excellent sister — great 
Prince ! 

Tra. Sit still, Brunetto ! Wast thou laid up for 
that 1 Alas for thee ! Hast thou married her ? 

Hora. So please your Highness, no. 

Tra. It doth neither please my highness nor low- 
ness neither ; I would thou hadst, and that's all the 
hurt I wish thee. Couldst thou think I, that loved 
thee so, would be angry with thee for this ? Hast thou 
her consent 1 

Hora. I have. 

Tra. I am very glad of it, and I here give thee 
mine too. Prithee, Brunetto, do me the favour to 
go and bid Barberino or Machavil come to me. I'll 



156 TRAPPOLIN. 

send for my sister presently, and if she says so to me, 
I'll soon have you married. 

Horn. Your Highness shall command me to my 
death ; 
More willingly unto my life, for so 
This business doth import. The heavens be praised, 
And ever be propitious unto you — bless you 
According to your own and my desires ! [Exit. 

Tra. This Brunetto is a good, honest fellow, and 
hath always behaved himself very well; and what- 
soever he be, I'll give him Prudentia for the ring he 
gave me — I will not be ungrateful. He said he was 
in love with my sister; and if he had them all, I would 
e'en say, much good do his heart with them. But he 
means the Princess ; and though I have little, to do 
with her, yet if I can give her him I will. Brunetto's 
ring I shall never forget. 

Enter Machavil. 

Mac. Your Highness' pleasure 1 

Tra. My Highness' pleasure, sirrah lord, is, that 
you go and tell my sister Prudentia I would speak 
with her presently. I will expect her here. Begone! 

[Exit. 

The Duke's life is very pleasant ; I take great con- 
tent in it ; and were it not for one thing, I were most 
happy, which is, I dare not disclose myself to my dear 
Flametta, for she is a woman, and full of tittle-tattle 
as the rest are. Nor, if I could win her without 
making myself known, durst I lie with her, by reason 
of putting off Eo, Meo, and Areo ; otherwise sure I 
should get her, for sure she would not refuse a Duke. 

Enter Flametta. 

Fla. Here is the Duke alone, whom I so long 
Have sought for, to petition for the repeal 
Of my dear Trappolin. Great Prince, as low 
As truest humility can make a suitor, 
Before you I prostrate myself. Most excellent 
And merciful sir, pity a loving maid 



TRAPPOLIN. 157 

Who is bereaved of her joys ; I beg 

Poor banished Trappolin might be recalled, 

Whom, when your Highness was to Milain gone, 

Was, by those cruel lords whom you did leave 

Our governors, sent into banishment. 

Great Duke, you that have noble thoughts, and sure 

A heart full of commiseration, 

Kill me not with a cruel hard denial. 

Tra. Ah, Eo, Meo, and Areo, hinder me ! I must 
counterfeit with her. Fair maiden, rise ! 

Fla. let me kneel, great sir, until you say 
My Trappolin shall be repeal' d ! 

Tra. Eise, I say ! and we will talk of it ; I cannot 
abide to see anybody kneel, unless they are in the 
church, that have legs to stand on. How may I call 
you, maiden 1 ? 

Fla. So please your Highness, my name is Flametta. 

Tra. Mrs. Flametta, I say, give me your hand ; rise 
without more ado — rise, without you mean to say your 
beads over. Mrs. Flametta, be rul'd ! good Mrs. Flam- 
etta, be rul'd ! Would I were hanged if ever Trappolin 
come home and you get not up ; up, I say, therefore ! 

Fla. I must be most rude. 

Tra. Why, that's well done, Mrs. Flametta ! 
Trappolin, for whom you are a petitioner, young- 
mistress, is banish'd, you say ; for what, it matters not. 
Tell me what you'll give for his repeal. 

Fla. Even anything I have — all that I have. 

Tra. Are you a virgin 1 tell me true. If you are 
not, it is no wonder, besworn ; it is more wonder by 
the half if you are, for I think there be not two of 
your age in the city that be. 

Fla. May I not prosper in my wishes, sir, if I be 
not a maid 1 

Tra. And will you give your maidenhead to have 
him recalled from banishment ? 

Fla. To him when he comes home, and we are 
married. 

Tra. Well said, mistress ! But tell me, now, what 
will you give me for to have him come home ? 



158 TRAPPOLIN. 

Fla. Even anything I have. 

Tra. I am a great man, and, like them, will not' 
do favours for nothing. Will you give me your 
shoes ? 

Fla. My shoes ! Your Highness jests. 

Tra. I swear unto you, mistress, but I do not ; and 
if you do not give me what I ask, how ridiculous 
soever it seems to you, Trappolin ne'er comes in 
Florence again. 

Fla. I wonder at the Duke, but will obey him. Here 
are my shoes, dear Prince. 

Tra. Well done, I say; but I must have your 
stockings too. Off with them, therefore, without any 
more arguing ! 

Fla. My stockings ! with all my heart, to have my 
Trappolin. 

Tra. Yery well done, Mrs. Flametta, you do very 
well. Give me your gown too. Do not wonder; these 
will do nothing without it. 

Fla. Then shall your Highness have it. 

Tra. I see you love that fellow well ; 'tis well done 
of you. I think he be an honest man, which makes 
me the willinger to yield to his repeal. I say I must 
have that petticoat too, else all this is not worth a 
rush, i' faith. 

Fla. I think the Duke's mad ! And will you give 
me, then, your Highness' word 1 

Tra. I will. 

Fla. I cannot help it ; here it is ! 

Tra. I swear unto thee, young wench, give me thy 
under petticoat and thy smock, and I will give thee 
my word, and send for him presently to-night. This 
wench makes me curse Eo, Meo, and Areo. 

Fla. Most excellent sir ! there is not in the world 
The thing that in my power lyes I would 
Deny to do for my dear Trappolin, 
But modesty forbids me to do this. 

Tra. I shall not have them, then 1 

Fla. I beseech your Highness, pardon me. 

Tra. I am very sorry I could not see her naked, 



TRAPPOLIN. 159 

but it cannot be helped. Well ! how many kisses will 
you give me, my young mistress 1 

Fla. Kisses? 
Most gracious Prince, a thousand and a thousand 

times 
I'll kiss your hand upon my humble knees. 

Tra. I have no pleasure in that • how many kisses 
upon lips will you give me % 

Fla. For Trappolin' s sake, I'll do anything that 
modesty will give me leave. Do what you please, sir. 

Tra. Ah, honey sweet Flametta, how I love thee ! 
Prithee, kiss better : dear lips ! I could almost wish 
Eo, Meo, and Areo i' th' fire. Again, again, again, 
sweet Flametta. 

Fla. Shall Trappolin come home 1 

Tra. Do but let us kiss, and thou shalt have any- 
thing. 
me ! what a misery it is to be a great man ! Again, 
again, Flametta ; Trappolin shall come home. 

Fla. I am aweary. 

Tra. So shall I never be. Again, again ! 

Enter Prudentia. 

Fla. The Princess, your Highness' sister ! 
You have gi'n your word 1 

Tra. Young mistress, I have not leisure to answer 
you now. Come to me some other time, and I'll talk 
with you further. Now take up your things, and be- 
gone ! 

Fla. I am assur'd I shall prevail : heavens guard 
your Highness. [Exit 

Pru. Now I expect my brother's rage, for sure, 
Though ne'er so secret kept, my love unto 
My dearest Horatio by some uncouth means 
Is known. Say what he will or can, I am 
Resolved, and my affections settled. 

Tra. Fair lady, come hither ! You are my sister, are 
vou ? 

Pru. I am your sister and servant, sir. 

Tra. Compliment with me no more than I compli- 



160 TRAPPOLIN. 

ment with you. Good madam sister, sit you down ! I 
would talk with you a little. 

Pru. He talks as though he were distracted. I 
obey you, sir. 

Tra. 'Tis well done, good lady sister ! 

Pru. I never saw my brother thus before. 
Sir, I am exceeding glad to see you 
Returned in safety out of Lombardy ; 
But should have been more joyful had you brought 
Your Duchess with you. 

Tra. She'll come soon enough, ne'er fear't; but, sister, 
I must be something brief, for I am a-hungry. As 
soon as I came home, I saw Brunetto in the gaol, who, 
after many circumstances and fears, told me 'twas for 
love of you that he was put there. Tell me, sister 
Prudentia, do you love him 1 I'll be sworn the man 
is a good honest fellow. If you have a mind to him, 
I'll give you my consent with all my heart ; I vow, as 
I am an honest man and the Duke, I do not jest. 

Pru. Most worthy brother, thanks ! I do confess 
I love Brunetto, and were very guilty 
Of cruelty if I did not, for he 
Loves me, I know, as his own happiness. 
Nor, sir, have I placed my affections 
Unworthy : Brunetto is a Prince, 
His name is Horatio, and he's second son 
Unto the Duke of Savoy ; for my sake 
He changed his name and lives a prisoner. 

Tra. How's this 1 ? — Is Brunetto a Prince 1 You love 
him, lady sister, you say 1 

Pru. Most truly, sir, I do. 

Tra. Are you content to marry him ? 

Pru. I do desire no greater bliss on earth, 
So that your Highness will consent thereto. 

Tra. Lady sister, here is my hand ; I am content, 
i' faith, without more words, I am. I am an hungry 
now, and would be brief, sister mine ; I say marry 
him when you will, beshrew my heart and I be not 
content ; I had rather you had him than any man in 
the world. 



TRAPPOLIN. 161 

Pru. I know not what to think ; he's strangely 
chang'd ! 

Tra. Let this suffice, madam sister. I am very 
hungry, I say ; have you any good store of meat in the 
house ? I could eat soundly now, sister, of a dish of 
sausages. Come, lady sister, let's to dinner. Be- 
gone ! I have a good stomach, as I am an honest 
man. [Exeunt. 



Scene ii. 

Enter Mattemores. 

Mat. I, that have led a life until of late 
In spite of death, pass'd through the dangers of it 
Dreadless, without regard, — whom never men 
Conducted by brave captains to the field 
Did yet withstand, am won and vanquished : 
Hipolita, heroic Amazon, 

In love hath conquered me with amorous smiles. 
Methinks it is a thing most full of wonder, 
That what not massy pikes nor murtherous guns 
Could ever do, a lady's smiling eyes, 
The beauty of a timorous woman, should. 
Her eyes have darted fire into my breast, 
Which nothing but her kindness can extinguish ; 
And be she cruel, I shall soon be ashes ! 
Do I thus yield 1 ? Shall I forget the sound 
Of martial drums, the warlike noise of trumpets, 
To list to the lascivious harmony 
Of instruments touched by Hipolita's hand? 
Shall I forget the ordering of a camp, 
To ride great horses, to besiege a city, 
To undermine a castle, to raise bulwarks, — 
All for the love of a fair, fearful woman 1 
It must be so ! These legs, that wont to lead 
Arm'd men to battle, I must use in dauces ! 
This hair, that us'd to be covered with a helm, 
Cloggy with sweat and blood, I now must powder ! 

L 



162 TRAPPOLIN. 

These hands, that wont to wave a dreadful sword, 
Instead of iron gauntlets now must wear 
Perfum'd gloves ! I, that had wont to be 
Under the chirurgeon's hands to cure my wounds, 
Must have a barber now to keep me neat ! 
O love, thou art divine, and canst transform 
A man from what he was ! It is in vain 
To think to shun the thing thou dost constrain. 

Enter Hipolita. 

Hip. 'Tis idleness that is the cause 
We lose our liberties ; 
The busy Cupid never draws 
To yield unto his vice. 

Away with love ! it is a thing 

I hope I ne'er shall know; 
When many weep, so I shall sing, 

Have joy while they have woe. 

The happiness of love is poor 

Compar'd to liberty ; 
Blest lovers do hard things endure, 

Their pleasures to enjoy. 

May I live ever as I do, 

Free from that foolish pain ! 
I wish that no man may me woo 

Until I love again ! 

Mat. heavens, is thus her mind composed? If I 
Can win this lady, it will be a conquest 
Deserves a trophy far above my best 
Of victories ! I will go try her. Hail, 
Glory of Italy ! compar'd to whom 
The fair Egyptian queen would yield. Sweet lady ! 
Most excellent Hipolita, vouchsafe 
To hear me tell your conquest and my spoil : 
Whom the great Duke's greatest foes could never 
vanquish, 



TRAPPOLIN. 163 

Your powerful beauty hath. Know Mattemores, 
Whose valour Spain not only doth report, 
But Mantua hath prov'd, your matchless eyes, 
Transcendants of the brightest, lightest stars, 
Have wounded fatally unto the heart, 
Unless you prove as kind as you are fair ! 

Hip. Do you jest with me, Captain 1 

Mat. My heart's delight ! sweet centre of my 
thoughts ! 
I vow by your rich beauty, if my heart 
Could speak it would agree full with my tongue ; 
I would tell my love more than I can express ! 

Hip. What ill fortune, good signor, you have 
had, 
To fall in love with one deserves it not, 
Nor doth not care for you ! And I do hope 
I ne'er shall bear affection unto man. 

Mat. Patience assist me mightily ! Not all 
The murderous cannon bullets I have heard 
Fly buzzing by my ears, nor dismal cries 
Of dying soldiers, nor the horrid noise 
Of rough tempestuous seas, have ever moved me ; 
Only your harsh, unkind reply hath struck 
Unto my very soul ! 

Hip. I cannot help it. 

Had you now, Captain, been abroad i' th' field, 
This ne'er had happened to you ; and to cure you, 
The field will be the best. Go to the wars, 
Busy yourself in fights, and you will soon 
Forget you ever saw Hipolita. 

Mat. Most cruel fair one, be assur'd that ere 
I would forget you, which I know 's a thing 
For me impossible to do, I would 
Into oblivion cast my best of pleasures — 
Even all my pleasures ! I would forget to use 
My sword, and all the military science ! 
Witness, triumphant son of Jove, great Mars, 
I vow, by all the honours of a soldier, 
I love thee dear as mine own heart, but this 
Admirable lady much above it ! 



164 TRAPPOLIN. 

Nor do I displease thee in 't. I know that thou 
Prefer'st the embraces of the Cyprian queen 
Above the glorious battles of the field ! 
Therefore, dear lady, be most confident, 
While I have memory, above all things 
Your beauty will be fixed in 't. 

Hip. Good signor, 

Trouble me not to answer you again. 
Let this suffice — I wish you lik'd me not, 
Because I neither would have you nor any 
To love a woman will not return affectim. 

Mat. heavens ! 

Will you continue thus obdurate ever? 
Hip. Always ; believe it, Captain. 
Mat. I have not patience to contain myself ! 
An angry cloud full fraught with thunderbolts, 
Work'd by the Cyclops on Campagnia's stithy, 
Now hanging o'er my head, menacing death, 
Presaging speedy, sad destruction, 
Could not compel my silence ! 'Tis decreed 
By my adverse malignant stars that I 
Shall die, destroy'd by a fair cruel woman ; 
Which, ere I do, I will a little ease 
My troubled heart of woe ! Hear, merciless woman, 
Whom I do curse because I love so dearly, 
Hear me, and afterwards go glory * that 
Your wondrous beauty and your savage heart 
Hath made a man distracted — kill'd a soldier ! 

Hip. A captain, and be thus mov'd by a woman's 

refusal 1 
Mat. Sweetest Hipolita, be merciful, and save 
His life that honours you above the world ! 
Hip. Pray you, signor, be answered ! 
Mat. You are resolv'd, then, to ruin me 1 
Curs'd be those battles, all that I have fought 
And conquer'd in ! 'T had been more honour for me 
To have been slain by my incensed foes, 
Which were brave soldiers, than to die in peace 
By the unkindness of a fair, proud woman. 

* To glory — to revel with delight. 



TRAPPOLIN. 165 

Hip. Beseech you, leave your rage, and leave me, 
Captain ! 

Mat. More cruel than Hyrcanian tigers, hear 
Me take my leave before I go ! 

Hip. Proceed! 

Mat. Thou god of love, an if thou art a god, 
Eevenge thyself and thy wrong' d deity 
On this unmerciful lady ! Make her fall 
In love with the basest of all mankind, — 
A man so full of ignorance, that he 
In shape alone may differ from a beast, 
Not know that she is fair, and slight her beauty, 
And be himself the most deformed thing 
That ever burthened our mother earth 
With his unworthy steps ! Cupid, attend, 
And yield unto my just request ! Make this 
Lady run mad for such a monster, shed 
A thousand thousand tears upon her knees, 
While he stands laughing at her ! May you die 
Raging for love, Hipolita, as I ! 

Hip. I do begin to pity him. Sure I never 
Shall have a man to love me better ; and though 
I once intended always to live single, 
His words have altered my resolution. 
Nor, if I take him, shall I do a thing 
Will misbecome me, for he is a man 
High in the great Duke's favour. Noble Captain, 
It is your happy fate to conquer always. 
I vow unto you by my honour, I think 
Most seriously no man upon the earth 
Besides you could have won. I'm the last 
Of all your victories — Theseus-like, you have 
Overcome Hipolita ! 

Mat. And will you love me, then ? 

Hip. I do, and always will ! 

Mat. Blest be the stars that shin'd at my nativity ! 
I want words to express my joys ; but, dearest 

lady, 
My sweet Hipolita, my forward actions 
Shall make you know my heart above my tongue ! 



166 TRAPPOLIN. 

I am a soldier, and was never wont 
To speak amorously. 

Hip. You have said enough. 

Love is but thought by words, by deeds 'tis known ; 
Show me you love me, and let words alone ! 

Mat. Worthiest of ladies, when I cease to do 
All that I can, then may your love cease too ! 

[Exeunt. 

Act iv. — Scene i. 
Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 

Bar. He cannot counterfeit so much. 

Mac. I know not ; 

But if he do not, surely he is mad ! 
What wild, fantastic things he does ! and talks 
Of Eo, Meo, and Areo, names 
Unheard 'i th' court before. 

Bar. Some Milan counts, 

I warrant you, he means by them. 

Mac. The strangest thing of all is the release 
Of Brunetto, and his extraordinary love unto him, 
Whom he hath caused richly to be clothed. 

Bar. And useth him as if he were his better. 

Enter Horatio. 

Mac. Yonder's the man we talk of ! What a change 
We see ! — a prisoner but lately lock'd up safe, 
And now to be the wonder of the court ! 

Hora. Next Eo, Meo, and Areo, the Duke 
Doth swear he loveth me ; but who those are, 
I cannot tell nor learn. My lords, good day ! 
Saw you his Highness lately 1 

Bar. No, sir. 

Hora. You speak as tho' you were displeased. 

Mac. We are not well contented, sir. 

Hora. The Duke is noble; utter your grievances to 
him! 

Bar. So we will, sir. 



TRAPPOLIN. 167 



Enter Trappolin. 

Mac. And now, sir. 
Know, worthy Prince, we are your loyal subjects, 
And what we say is for your honour. 

Tra. If it be for my honour, I'll hear you ; 
But be as brief as you will. 

Mac. Your Highness hath lately released Brunetto ? 

Tra. 'Tis a thing very certain. 

Mac. We doubt not but done out of clemency, 
Not knowing why he lay there. 

Tra. Well, why was he put there ? 

Mac. Even for your honour's sake, most gracious 
sir. The Lady Prudentia, your sister, loves him. 

Tra. Say you so ? So ho ! Pucannello ! so ho ! 

Puc. Who calls % [Within. 

Bar. His Highness ! come hither presently. 

Tra, Bid the guard enter. 

Enter Pucannello and the Guard. 

You say Brunetto was put in prison because my sister 
lov'd him % You think it good and fitting he were 
there again? 

Bar. So please your Highness, yes. 

Tra. Pucannello, take me these two coxcombly 
lords into your custody; they are never well but 
when they are banishing somebody, or doing some 
mischief or other. Brunetto was laid in prison be- 
cause my sister lov'd him, and lay me these there 
because I love them. 

Mac. Beseech your Highness not to deal so hardly 
With us, whom you have known so faithful to you ! 

Tra. Pucannello, away with them, I say ! You of 
the guard, see them in ! 

Bar. Most worthy Prince, be merciful ! If we 
Have done amiss, 'twas out of ignorance. 

Tra. Sirrah rogue, away with them, or I'll lay up 
you too! 

Puc. Your Honours must have patience, and walk. 



168 TRAPPOLIN. 

Mac. There is no remedy. 

Bar. The heavens be merciful to Florence! 
What ill malignant star hath so deprived 
Our wise and noble Duke of all his reason, 
That he remembers not who are his friends % [Exit. 

Hora. The gods be ever most propitious, 
Great sir, unto you, and continue long 
Your life, chief honour of the Medicis ! 

Tra. Prince Horatio, I am your servant. I pray 
you forgive me my calling of you by your nickname 
of Brunetto ; my sister hath told me you are the son 
of the Duke of Savoy. Besworn unto you, I am very 
sorry I have not used you as befitted you ; but it was 
your fault, that told me not who you were. I have 
talked with Prudentia, and she loves you, she says ; 
which I am glad on, and I'll marry you as soon as you 
will. 

Hora. Sir, it is true I am Horatio, 
Son of the Piedmont Prince ; but, being his second, 
I durst not think me worthy of such honours 
As your Highness hath done me, and therefore told 
None but your beauteous sister who I was. 

Tra. Enough, my friend ! And, Prince Horatio, 
Could you suppose I would deny my sister, 
Though she were made of gold and precious stones, 
Unto your Highness, and to such a friend % 
You do deserve a better wife than she. 
She's not half good enough for you ; and if 
I had another sister, you should have them both. 
My friend a Prince ! I'm very glad, i' faith; 
But sorry that I did not know you such, 
That I might have done you right. Would I were 

hang'd 
If you are not far a better man than I ! 

Hora. Great Prince, you do forget yourself. 

Tra. Your Highness must pardon me; I do remem- 
ber myself well enough, yet Eo, Meo, and Areo have 
made me something proudish. But, howsoever, I am 
your servant, Prince Horatio — i' faith I am your very 
dutiful servant ! How say you now 1 — the Duke of 



TRAPPOLIN. 169 

Savoy's son ! I' faith I am your poor servant, Lavin, 
the Duke of Florence. 

Hora. I am amazed ! he's mad ! Beseech your 
Highness' leave — I pray you, sir 

Enter Mattemores, the Spanish Captain, with 
Petitioners. 

Tra. What have we here now 1 Does the Captain 
bring us morris-dancers 1 What lobs are these two 1 

Mat. So please your Highness, being importun'd 
much, these I have brought before you, that you 
might do justice. 

Tra. Captain Mattemores, justice I'll do with all 
my heart, but execution let do who will for me. 

Calf. Great Duke of Tuscany, vouchsafe to hear me, 
For what I speak is out of conscience. 
This fellow, Mr. Bulflesh, a butcher, I saw, 
Verily with mine own eyes, even yesternight, 
When he was drunk, to kill my man, which he 
Swore was good beef, and he would sell it dear. 

Bui. Sirrah Puritan, you are a base scoundrel. Was 
not I drunk in your company to make you merry 1 

Calf. But, Mr. Bulflesh, you do know, and that full 
well, that I prayed you on my knees for your own 
soul's sake to drink no more, and profess'd to you 
that it was a great abominable sin in you to fox your- 
self, or be foxed ! 

Bui. Goodman Calfshead, you are a base, scurvy 
companion. Do you not know that for your sake I 
killed your man 1 Yet I meant but only to beat him 
soundly, because he poured not the wine into your 
codpiece. Did not I do it out of friendship unto you 1 ? 
— did I not, you Puritan you? And you to complain ! 
the ingratitude of Puritans ! 

Tra. Peace, both of you. Master Puritan, hold 
your tongue, I say! Will not Calfshead be drunk, 
Bulflesh? 

Bui. So please your Highness, no ; he will let a 
man sooner hang him than make him drunk. Besides, 



170 TRAPPOLIN. 

he is a fellow of strange opinions, and hath sent his 
son to Geneva to hear Jack Calvin preach. He stole 
a surplice to make his amorosa a smock of; and hath 
writ a paltry book against the bishops, printed it at 
Amsterdam in decimo sexto. He will lie and steal 
without comparison, is both for boys as well as 
queans when he hath money, and, like a true Italian 
hypocrite, is for any sin or mischief but our drink- 
ing. 

Tra. Then know I very well how to do justice. 
Mr. Calfshead, you say the butcher killed your man 
when he was fox'd 1 Be you fox'd when you will, and 
then kill him for 't. 

Calf. Heavens defend ! I ne'er was drunk yet, and 
never will be. 

Hora. There is mad justice ; he doth increase my 
wonder. 

Calf. Bless me, murder ? I would not do it for the 
world ! 

Mat This is strange justice ; the butcher doth very 
well deserve to be sent into the galleys at Ligorn. 

Tra. I have done with you, Mr. Puritan ; you may 
begone to the tavern. And, Bulflesh, you may get you 
to the shambles as soon as you will, for I have no 
more to say to either of you. 

[Exeunt Calfshead and Bulflesh. 
I am ready for the next ; speak, therefore ! 

Barne. Most excellent Prince, pity a childless 
father ! 
As yesterday my only son did walk 
Under an house, this fellow, Gaffer Tiler, 
Who was a-working on it, did fall down 
Upon my son, and killed him with his fall. 

Til. Mr. Barne, be not so eager. You know I bore 
your son no malice, and that it was an hundred to 
one I broke not my own neck. 

Tra. This is an easy matter to conclude. 
Friend Barne, you say this Gaffer Tiler 
Fell off a house, and so did kill your son 1 
I will be very upright in my justice : 



TRAPPOLIN. 171 

Go you upon the house from whence he tumbled, 
And he shall stand beneath, and fall on him. 

Mat. An the Duke be not stark mad, I am, to 
think him so. 

Bame. So I may break my own neck. 

Hora. He strangely is distracted. 

Tra. Neighbour Barne, get you about your business, 
for I have done with you. 

Barne. I must have patience. 

[Exeunt Barne and Tiler. 

Tra. Now let me make an end with these, and I 
have done. 

Mrs. Fine. Deign, noble Duke, to hear my just com- 
plaint. 
I am a poor and an unfortunate widow ; 
This man, Dick Whip, as the other day he drove 
His coach, ran over a little child of mine 
That was playing in the street, and kill'd it. 

Tra. Sirrah Whip, is this true 1 

Whip. So please your Highness, I confess it is. 

Tra. It doth not please me nor displease me, for I 
neither did it, nor was the child mine. 

Wliip. It was against my will — a thing of chance. 
Mrs. Fine cannot deny it. 

Tra. Mrs. Fine, you are a widow, you say % 

Mrs. Fine. A poor unhappy one I am. 

Tra. You say that Whip the coachman hath killed 
your child ; and how he did it I have understood. 
This is my justice — I will do you right : Whip shall 
lie with you until he get you another. 

Mat. Madder and madder ! 

Hora. I cannot choose but smile. 

Whip. Most willingly, so please your Highness. I 
am well content to do her that satisfaction. 

Mrs. Fine. You shall be hanged first, that you shall ! 
Is thus my expectation failed 1 

Tra. Mrs. Fine, be ruled ; I will have justice done. 
Whip shall lie with you — you may marry him an 
you will. He killed your child, and he shall get you 
another — I say but right. And, Sirrah Whip, look 



172 TRAPPOLIN. 

unto't; an you play the bungler, and fail, you shall 
to Ligorn and learn to row. Mrs. Fine, be contented. 
An you do not like him, you might have held your 
tongue, for I know nobody that sent for you, and so 
get you both gone ! 

Whip. The heavens preserve your Highness ! 

[Exeunt. 

Tra. My friend and Prince, Horatio, go unto 
My sister. Bid her to prepare herself; 
I'll have you married within this day or two. 
I long to see you both in bed together ! 

Horn. Most willingly I will do such a message. 
The gods preserve you happily! [Exit. 

Mat. A strange discovery, if true. 

Tra. Seignior Captain, I say I have done very good 
justice, and in a little time too. I am not like your 
scarlet coats, that will do nothing without money ; a 
company of fellows they are whose beards and hearts 
agree not together. 

Mat. Your Highness doth despatch things very 
soon. 

Tra. Though I am the Duke, yet I love to do no 
hurt, as other men in authority would. I hate to 
banish men, as Machavil and Barbarino ha' done. 
Alas ! poor Trappolin ! I hear they have banish'd an 
honest man call'd Trappolin. What the devil, Seignior 
Mattemores, came in their heads to send a poor fellow 
away out of his country without any money 1 ? Though 
men may sometimes gather a reasonable sallet abroad, 
he shall get no oil to eat it withal. 

Mat. Great Duke of Tuscany, our noble master, 
That Trappolin of whom your Highness speaks 
Had little fault in him, good faith, at all, 
Saving he was a most notorious coward ! 

Tra. Why, you Don of guns or pikes, do you think 
every man's mind is given to the wars 1 Trappolin 
was addicted to the peace, a poor fellow full of cour- 
tesies — one that will never deny to do a favour for a 
friend. I will have a little sport with my Don of the 
wars. me, sir Captain, look yonder ! Eo, Meo, and 



TRAPPOLIN. 173 

Areo, I will put you off for a while ; I will try some 
conclusions. 

Mat. Your Highness Where's the Duke gone, 

I marl? 
What, Trappolin, art thou come again? 
Faith, many a wench in Florence will be glad. 
Follow thy old trade ; be a pander still. 

Tra. Seignior Captain, I am your humble slave, and 
if I can do you any kindness at any time, i' faith, Don 
Mattemores, you shall command me. And if you 
have but a mind to any beauty in Florence, pay but 
me well for my pains, and her well for hers, and I will 
not fail you. And, Captain, I can give you a delicate 
poison, to despatch any enemy with whom you dare 
not fight. 

Mat. I see thou art resolv'd to be a rogue ; 
'Tis pity that his Highness did repeal thee. 
Next time I see him, sirrah pimp, I will 
Make suit to have you sent into Ligorn. 

Tra. You Spanish coxcomb, go hang yourself ! Do 
your worst. 

Mat. Wert thou a soldier, I would fight with thee ; 
Being a rogue, thou dost deserve my foot. 
Take this, you rascal ! 

Tra. I will presently be out of his debt. — Who's 
yonder? It is the Duke, or I am deceiv'd. — Eo, Meo, 
and Areo ! on again my hat, my glass, and cloak ; 
sit close ! — How now, sirrah Captain, where are your 
manners ? What do you think of me ? Who am I, 
too? I am not your lieutenant, am I? Stoop, and 
take up your hat, and let me see if it will not become 
your hand as well as your head in my presence. 

Mat. I did not see your Highness. 

Tra. Will you lie, too? Take that, and learn to 
speak truth. [Kicks him. 

Mat. Most noble Prince, and my most royal master, 
Pardon the error which unwillingly 
I have committed. In Tuscany there lives not 
A man that freelier for your sake would lose 
His life than I. 



174 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Well, get you gone ; I do 

Forgive you. My Don at arms, remember 
The Duke's to be observ'd ; he is the man 
That doth maintain you. 

Mat. And, most worthy Prince, 

Did but occasion show itself, I would 
Venture and lose my life to do you service. [Exit. 

Tra. An my father conjuror would come into 
Florence, I would make him the next man unto my 
Highness. He is a good man, and it is great pity that 
he should go to the devil, as they say conjurors and 
witches do. "Well, I am a brave fellow ; I love to see 
myself in my glass. I am the Duke, i' faith, the very 
Duke — I see me ! 

Enter Flametta. 

Fla. I will go and petition him again. 

Tra. My rogue Flametta ! I could kiss her to pieces, 
bite off her lips, and suck out her eyes, I love her so 
well. 

Fla. The great Duke of Tuscany, the gracious 
heavens 
Prosper your Highness ever ! I am the same 
That lately did entreat for the repeal 
Of my beloved sweetheart Trappolin. 
Most excellent sir, pity my earnest suit, 
And let me have my Trappolin recall'd. 

Tra. This is a very precious villain ; how she loves 
me ! An I ever marry while I am a Duke, by Eo, 
Meo, and Areo's leave, I will have her. — Your name, 
little maid, is Flametta, as I remember ? 

Fla. So please your Highness, yes. 

Tra. You sue to have banish'd Trappolin come 
home 1 

Fla. Most humbly, most excellent sir, I do. 

Tra. Well, 'tis all as please Eo, Meo, and Areo — I 
can do nothing without them ; and, my young mis- 
tress, as long as they are in authority, I can do little 
for you. 



TRAPPOLIN. 175 

Fla. Then, by your Highness' leave, do I wish Eo, 
Meo, and Areo in the fire ! 

Tra. Methinks they should be enough in that al- 
ready, for the devil made them all. — Now I think 
well on 't, sometime when I have good opportunity 
I will off with my things, and have a little sport 
with her. — Since, fair maid, you are so earnest for 
your sweetheart Trappolin, he shall come home very 
shortly — he shall, believe me ; but upon condition I 
will do it. 

Fla. On any condition except my honour, sir. 

Tra. That he shall lie with you ! 

Fla. "Were we but married, most willingly. 

Tra. If he gives you his oath to have you, will not 
that suffice ? 

Fla. I had rather we had married before. 

Tra. You need not fear. Should he swear unto 
you, and break his oath, I would hang him. — And 
yet, though I ne'er mean to break my word with her, 
i' faith, I should very hardly hang myself for anything; 
the rope is a very dismal thing. 

Fla. Shall he come home ? Say the word, noble 
Prince ! 

Tra. Well, on my word, he shall, as soon as possibly 
I can ; but on that condition that you will accept 
of him without marriage, upon his oath to have 
you. 

Fla. I see his Highness is mad, as everybody says, 
otherwise what should ail him to talk thus 1 ? — Most 
excellent Prince, he and I would not disagree. 

Tra. Well, here is my hand ! he shall come home 
shortly. Now I must have a kiss, and leave you. I 
am very hungry ; I ha' been so long a doing justice 
that I am very hungry. Give me a buss, sweetheart ! 

[Kisses her. 

Fla. Heaven bless your Highness ! 

[Exeunt severally. 



176 TRAPPOLIK 



Scene ii. 

Enter Lavinio, the great Duke, Isabella, the Duchess, 
with Attendants. 

Lav. My heart's sweet solace, my dear Isabella, 
You are most welcome unto Florence ! 
Live according to your wishes happily, 
And may I perish if I do not strive 
In everything to please you to my power. 
I'm sorry at my coming home I find 
Such strange and unexpected alterations, 
That, for to quiet them, I must deprive 
Myself some hours of your company. 

Isa. Most excellent sir, I do account myself 
Most highly blest, that am not only married 
Unto a Prince, but one that can 
And doth vouchsafe his love unto me, being 
Defective of those beauties should deserve it. 
To your affairs betake you, worthy sir ; 
I will expect you till your leisure serves. 

Lav. You are good unto a miracle, 
Sweet Isabella ! Attend the Duchess in ! 
Adieu, my love ; some few but tedious minutes 
Pass'd over, I will come unto you. 

Isa. I will await your leisure. 

[Exeunt with Isabella. 

Lav. What mad fantastic humours have possess'd 
In general the heads of the Florentines ? 
They have amaz'd me — speak as if I 
Had been with them before my Duchess came. 

Barbarino and Machavil appear in prison. 

Bar. You great commander of the Tuscan cities, 
Pity your subjects and your loyal servants ! 
In what we sued for we had no design, 
Neither the least intent, for to offend. 

Mac. Be merciful, therefore, most gracious Prince ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 177 

Let not the noblest of the Florentines 

Wear out their days and thraldom in a prison, 

Eeing men not long ago high in your favour. 

Lav. I am lost within a labyrinth of wonders — 
I know not what to think. The chiefest of 
The Florentine nobility in prison, 
And sue to me as if I had commanded 
Them to this place 1 Sure some ill spirit hath 
Possess' d men's minds while I was absent. Do you 
Know me 1 

Bar. Your highness is the Duke our master. 

Lav. Are you not called Barbarino, and you 
Machavil, the lords unto whom I left 
The government of Tuscany in my absence "? 

Mac. We are your loyal subjects, though your pri- 
soners, and were left your deputies when your High- 
ness went to Milan. 

Lav. How came you there 1 

Bar. Great sir, you know most well 
At your command. 

Lav. I must be satisfied in this. 

Pucannello, so ho ! 

Puc. Who calls 1 What's the matter, I wonder ? 

[Within. 

Lav. Eelease me the lords presently, and send them 
to me hither. 
The more I think of these accidents, 
The more I marvel how they come to pass. 
The men whom I did leave here governors 
Are prisoners, and, which increaseth more 
Amazement in me, they say it was I 
That made them so. Some unheard malady, 
Unknown unto the world before, it seems 
Hath infected all my subjects with a frenzy. 

Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 

Bar. He hath chang'd his humour, it seems. 
Mac. And may he continue in this, if it be a good 
one. 

M 



178 TRAPPOLIN. 

Lav. I am astonished to see the things 
I every minute do ; especially 
You two, to whom I left the weighty charge 
Of rule, in prison. Eesolve me, for Heaven's sake, 
How you came there ! 

Bar. Sure he doth jest with us. 

Mac. Your Highness is disposed to be merry. 
You know, most excellent sir, full well, that none 
Except yourself could do it. 

Lav. I do it 1 

Bar. He doth things in his madness he remembers 
not when he's in's right senses, it seems. 

Lav. Florence I left a wise ingenious city, 
But I have found it now, at my return, 
Possess'd with a strange unheard-of madness. 
Who put you in prison? Collect your wits int' 

order, 
And answer wisely. 

. Mac. I vow, by the prosperity of Tuscany, 
Your Highness ! 

Lav. Most strange ! Why did I so ? 

Bar. Because we did, most gracious sir, give notice 
Unto you how the Princess Prudentia, 
Your matchless, beauteous sister, lov'd Brunetto. 

Lav. Whom 1 What Brunetto 1 

Mac. Your prisoner, taken in the Mantuan wars. 

Lav. My sister to forget herself ! I am 
Full of amazement. She, that had refused 
The youthful Dukes of Modena and Parma, 
Dote on a slave slighted by all the stars ! 
My sister also so to lose her senses — 
She that was wise, and honoured for her virtues ! 
Sure also this same strange infection 
Of madness would ha' seiz'd upon myself 
If I had stayed at home. I will not now 
So marvel at the common people, seeing 
The most discreet of the nobility, 
And my own sister, equally distracted. 

Mac. I hope he comes to himself again; he talks 
something more wisely than of late. 



TRAPPOLIN. 179 

Lav. It is a frequent thing to see a city 
Miserably groan under a heavy sickness — 
To have the plague, or fierce diseases full 
Of danger, rage and even unpopulate places ; 
But such a general frenzy to possess 
And to distract all Florence is a wonder — 
A miracle unmatch'd in history ! 

Bar. How he talks as if we were all mad, and he 
had done nothing ! 

Lav. Are you sure you are both in your right senses? 

Mac. Did once your Highness know us so ? 
: Lav. Yes. 

Bar. We are as free from any distraction 
As ever yet we were since we were born. 

Lav. You must both of you, tho', give me leave to 
think what I know. 

Enter Mattemores. 

I'll try an he be mad too. — Captain, these lords say I 
put them in prison ; how say you 1 

Mat. So your Highness did. — He's distracted an- 
other way. 

Lav. Good gods be merciful ! — Why 1 

Mat. Because they spoke against Brunetto's liberty. 

Lav. He's in the same tale; 
Though they are deprived of their senses, 
They do not differ. 

But why, good Captain, — answer me a little, — 
Should I desire Brunetto's freedom, being 
Beloved by my sister, as they say 1 
Would it not be a great dishonour, think you, 
Unto the family of the Medicis, 
That she should cast herself away upon one 
We do neither know whom or whence he is 1 
I pray you, Captain, if that yet you have 
Any small remnant of your wit remaining, 
Reply according to it. 

Mat. An he be grown wise again, heavens be 
praised ! 
It is a certain truth your Highness speaks, 



180 TRAPPOLIN. 

That if your sister should bestow herself, 

Being a Princess meriting so much 

For her unequall'd beauty and her virtues, 

Upon a man such as you pleas'd to mention, 

It would be a great weakness in her ; but you 

Yourself I heard, most excellent sir, 

To call Brunetto Prince Horatio, 

The second son unto the Duke of Savoy. 

Lav. How 1 I call him so ! Truth, Captain, you 
Have heard these things which I did never say. 

Bar. You never heard him call Brunetto so I 

Mac. Never; this is the first time I ever heard 
of it. 

Lav. My wonder is so great, I do want words 
Whereby to give it vent ; I see that all 
My subjects, being distracted, think me mad ! 

Mat. And more, so please your Highness, you did 
send 
Brunetto, whom you Prince Horatio called, 
Unto your sister, to bid her prepare 
Herself, for you within a day or two 
Would see them married ! 

Lav. Enough ! 

Captain, I swear unto you by my Dukedom 
That rather I would send Brunetto, though 
He were the Duke of Savoy's second son, 
To have his head struck off than on that message 
You say I did. 

Mat. He doth remember nothing. 

Bar. If the Duke be come to his right senses again, 
I beseech the gods keep him so ! 

Mac. And I. 

Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 

Mac. Beseech your Highness, look ! let your own 
eyes 
Be witness of their mutual affection ! 
Behold the Princess your sister and Brunetto ! 
Let us withdraw where we may stand unseen, 
And you shall hear them talk what I have said. 



TRAPPOLIN. 181 

Hora. Dear lady, you have raised me to a fortune 
So high, that when I look upon myself 
I am amaz'd, and wonder at your goodness. 

Pru. Most noble Prince, let my unfeigned love 
Excuse the weak expressions of my tongue ! 
I'm glad my brother bears so noble a mind 
As to be willing to unite our bodies, 
As we have done our hearts. 

Hora. Not only willing, divine Prudentia, 
But earnest for us ; he doth seem to grieve 
That two such faithful lovers as we are 
Should live so long asunder. 

Pru. It is a worthy nature in him. 

Lav. I can contain myself no longer ; though this 
Be out of madness done, I will not suffer it. 
Sister ! 

Pru. Live long, most worthy brother, happily! 

Lav. So should I wish for you, bore you a mind 
Deserv'd yourself ! 

Pru. What mean you, sir 1 

Hora. Good heavens,, be kind, and do not now undo 
What you have almost brought unto perfection ! 
I fear his madness, that once favoured me, 
Hath chang'd his mind to my undoing ! 

Lav. I will but spend few words. Are you a son 
Of the Duke of Savoy's 1 

Hora. Your Highness knows I am his second. 

Lav. Whether 

You are or no, I care not ; and if you be, 
My sister once deserv'd a better husband; 
And she shall rather in a monastery 
Spend all her future days than be your wife ! 
And be you what you will, sir, I will show you 
That you have wronged me, and I do not fear 
The Duke of Savoy, if he be your father. 
Pucannello, Pucannello, come hither ! 

Mac. I like this. 

Pru. He's wonderfully distracted! Most worthy 
brother, 
Be not so much unmerciful ! 



182 TRAPPOLIN. 

Lav. Peace, Prudentia ! I never thought 
You had so weak a reason. 

Horn. He's mad to my undoing ! Gracious gods, 
Soon make him leave this humour ! 

Bar. I hope he's come unto himself. 

Enter Pucannello. 

Lav. Sirrah, convey Brunetto into prison ! 
Lock him up close ! 

Puc. Here's do and undo. Will our Duke ne'er be 
in his 
Eight senses again? . 

Pru. My dear Horatio, love me still, for I 
Unto thee will be constant, though I die ! 

Hora. Though I be tortured unto death, my dear ! 

[Exeunt with Horatio, 

Mat. I know not what to think of these alterations. 

Lav. Thus, but the heavens assist, I hope to bring 
Int' order from confusion everything. [Exeunt omnes. 

Act v.— Scene i. 

Enter Trappolin, solus. 

Tra. The Duke is come home, and therefore my 
hardest part is behind. Father conjuror, an you be 
not my friend now, I am undone. Eo, Meo, and Areo, 
sit you all close, and lose not a jot of your virtue. 
Happen what will, as soon as I meet his Highness I 
will try the virtue of my powder on him, let him take 
it how he please. 

Enter Prudentia. 

Pru. Here is my brother ! I will try him ; perhaps 
He may have chang'd his sullen humour now, 
And set the Prince Horatio at liberty. 
Most excellent, noble sir ! 

Tra. My dear sister, how dost thou do 1 Why look 
you so sad 1 Ha' you got the green sickness to-night 
with lying alone ? An you have, I will take an order 



TRAPPOLIN. 183 

for your cure very shortly, and to your liking, too; 
I'll have you married within these two days at the 
furthest. 

Pru. Married, sir! Unto whom? 

Tra. Unto my friend, your lover, Prince Horatio. 

Pru. I am glad of this. Alas, sir ! why then have 
you 
Made him a close unhappy prisoner % 

Tra. I see the Duke hath met with him. — 
You do deceive yourself, lady sister ; indeed 
You do ! Put up my friend in prison % Heaven 
defend ! 

Pru. Sir, — pardon me for speaking truth, — I heard 
When you commanded it. 

Tra. Sister mine, if I did I was drunk, and now I 
am sober I will let him out. Sirrah Pucannello ! so ho ! 

Pru. May he continue always in this vein 
Of kindness ! Thus, his madness is not grievous ! 

Tra. Madam sister, I am very sorry I was such a 
beast as in my drink to commit such a fault. I pray 
you forgive me ! 

Enter Pucannello. 

Puc. What is your Highness' will 1 

Tra. It is that you set Prince Horatio at liberty, 
and send him hither presently. 

Puc. I wonder ! — Most willingly ! [Exit. 

Pru. You are a gracious prince, and the high gods 
Will recompense your pity unto lovers ! 

Tra. What a swine was I to do such a thing ! I 
am ashamed as often as I think on't; I shall be 
ashamed to look on my friend. Sister, you must pray 
him to forgive me ! 

Pru. Sir, trouble not yourself; and be assur'd, 
Unless you part us, you can never do 
Offence either unto the Prince or me ! 

Enter Horatio. 

Hora. It seems his mind is changed — the heavens 
be praised! 



184 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Prince Horatio, an you do not forgive me my 
locking of you in prison, I shall never be merry 
again. I did it when I was drunk, and my sister 
knows that as soon as she told me on't I sent for 
you. I pray you, therefore, forgive me, good Prince 
Horatio ! 

Hora. Most excellent sir, I was a man unworthy 
Of this sweet lady's love did I not freely ! 

Tra. I thank you, i' faith, Prince Horatio, with all 
my heart, I swear unto you ! Here ! take you my 
sister — take her by the hand, lead her whither you 
will, and do what you will unto her with her con- 
sent ; I am very sorry I parted you so long. I know 
lovers would be private though they do nothing but 
talk, therefore I will not hinder you. Fare you well, 
both my princely friend and lady sister ! 

Pru. The gods preserve you ! 

Hora. And reward your goodness ! \Exewit. 

Tra. Thus what the Duke doth I will undo ; such 
excuses will serve my turn well enough. 

Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 

Here are my lord banishers. It seems the Duke hath 
set them at liberty ; but in they go again, as sure as 
the cloaks on their backs ! 

Bar. May the good angels that attend upon 
Princes on earth defend your Highness always 
From every offensive thing ! 

Mac. And may you live 

A long and happy life, enlarge your state, 
Excel in fame the first great Duke ! 

Tra. Your good wishes I like, but credit me, my 
lord banishers, neither of you. Who let you out of 
prison ? 

Bar. He's mad as e'er he was ! — Your Highness, 
sir. 

Tra. You lie, sir ! Pucannello, come hither quickly ! 

Mac. Heavens be merciful ! we must in again, I see ! 
He does and undoes, and remembers nothing. 



TRAPPOLIN. 185 

Enter Pucannello. 

Tra. Sirrah rogue, why did you set these two at 
liberty? 

Puc. Your Highness did command it. 

Mac. If our Duke must be mad, the gods grant 
him 
That which he had the last ! 

Tra. You ill-faced rascal, you lie ! 

Puc. Beseech your Highness, remember yourself \ 
it was at your command ! 

Tra. It may be so, but I am sure I was drunk then, 
and now I am sober they shall in again ; therefore 
take them with you. Begone, I say ! 

Bar. There is no remedy. 

Mac. Good gods, pity Florence ! [Exeunt. 

Tra. Eo, Meo, and Areo, thanks ! i' faith, yet I am 
supposed the Duke ! Father conjuror, by thy art I am 
suppos'd a prince ! Stick to me still, and be my friend ! 

Enter Isabella. 

Here is the Duchess ! Eo, Meo, and Areo, be true to 
me, and I'll have a kiss or two at the least. 

Isa. Sir, you are fortunately met. 

Tra. Who are you, lady madam % 

Isa. Do you not know, sir 1 

Tra. I'd have you tell me. 

Isa. I never knew him so before. — I am your wife ! 

Tra. I'm glad on 't, I promise you ; come and kiss 
me, then. 

Isa. You are wondrous merrily disposed. 

Tra. Madam Duchess, I am something jovial in- 
deed; I have been a drinking Montefiascone very 
hard. Kiss me again, my dear lady wife ! 

Isa. He's drunk ! 

Tra. You are a handsome woman, I promise you. 
Prithee, tell me, my lady Duchess, am I a proper, 
handsome fellow % 

Isa. Do not jest with me, sir ; you know you are 
Him whom above the world I do esteem ! 



186 TRAPPOLIN. 

Tra. Well said, my lady wife ! 

Isa. I ne'er saw him so distempered before, 

Tra. Have you nothing yet in your belly % 

Isa. You know I am with child, sir. 

Tra. Faith, but I do not, for your belly swells not. 

Isa. I am full of wonder ! 

Tra. Lady wife, get you in, I am half drunk, and 
now am unfit for you ; but give me a kiss or two 
before. Madam Duchess, fare you well ! 

Isa. I had thought he had not been addicted to 
A vice so loathsome as drunkenness. [Exit. 

Tra. Yet all happens very well ! Protest the 
Duchess is a gallant woman — I almost like her as 
well as Flametta. I could He with her ; and I would, 
but I am half honest, and will not wrong the Duke 
nor Flametta. Why, is not my wench as good as she 1 ? 
Wherein do they differ, but only in clothes % Fla- 
metta's a woman as right as she, and perhaps, naked, 
as handsome ! What good in the night do jewels and 
fine clothes to a woman when she hath them not on ? 
Besworn I am very merry ! Eo, Meo, and Areo are 
brave, tame devils, and my father conjuror an excel- 
lent learned fellow ! 

Vienca wine and Padua bread, 

Trivigi tripes, and a Venice wench in bed ! 

[Exit singing. 

Scene ii. 

Enter Lavinio. 

Ye glorious planets, that do rightly guide 

The giddy ships upon the ocean waves, 

If some of your malignant influences 

Have rais'd this madness in my subjects' heads, 

Let some of your benign influences 

Again restore them to their former senses ! 

Those Florentines, whom all their enemies 

Could not impeach, could not withstand in arms, 



TKAPPOLIN. 187 

Suffer not, you immortal powers divine, 
Thus to be ruin'd by distraction ! 

Machavil and Barbarino appear in prison. 

I am astonished ! heavens, I know not what to 

think! 
Pucannello! Pucannello! let me out the two lords, 
and send them to me presently ; I'll talk unto 'em 
here at large. 

Bar. His ill fit's off. 

Mac. The gods be praised ! 

Lav. I do not think that since the infancy 
And first creation of the world a madness 
Pestiferous and equal unto this 
Was ever known. Good heavens reveal, and soon, 
The cause, that I may do my best to help it ! 

Enter Barbarino, Machavil, and Pucannello. 

Mac. Long may this fit continue ! 

Bar. If it hold always, sure he's in 's wits again. 

Lav. I wonder, lords, and justly, that you, whom I 
have known to have the noblest judgments, should 
thus become distracted. You in your fits of frenzy 
run to prison of yourselves, and think I sent you ! 

Bar. Most royal sir, we grieve to see these days. 
You did command us thither. 

Lav. D 

Mac. Your Highness' self. 

Lav. You are both deceiv'd. To do such idle errors, 
And lay the blame on me, doth more amaze me 1 
Pucannello, how came these in prison % 

Bug. So please your Highness, you were angry with 
them, 
And did commit them. 

Lav. I commit them? 

That thou art mad is not so great a wonder. 
I tell you both with sorrow, witness Heaven ! 
You are strangely bereaved of your reason ! 
"Well, go ye in, and pray unto the gods 



188 TRAPPOLIN. 

That they hereafter would be kind unto you, 
And keep you from relapse ! 

Mac. Heavens bless your Highness ! 

Bar. And be unto you a perpetual guard ! [Exeunt. 

Lav. Famine, plague, war, — the ruinous instruments 
Wherewith the incensed deities do punish 
Weak mankind for misdeeds, — had they all fallen 
Upon this city, it had been a thing 
To be lamented, but not wondered at. 

Enter Isabella. 

Oh, my dear Isabella, I have brought thee 
From Milan, flourishing in all delights, 
Into a city full of men distracted. 

Isa. He's not sober yet. — Go in and sleep, sir ; 
You do not well to betray your weakness 
Unto the public view. 

Lav. My wife and all ! heavens ! 

Lsa. What say you, sir ? 

Lav. My Isabella, thou hast cause to curse me 
For bringing thee unto a place infected ! 
The air is sure pestiferous, and I wonder 
Now how I have escaped. 

Isa. Good sir, I pray you sleep. 

Lav. Wherefore, my Isabella 1 

Isa. Why, you have drunk too much ! 

Lav. Madness unmatch'd ! 
Dear Isabella, withdraw thyself into 
Thy chamber ; I will presently come to thee. 
There we will pray unto the angry gods 
That they would from 's remove this heavy ill. 

Isa. I will obey you, sir, to get you home. 
Good gods, ne'er let him thus offend again ! [Exit, 

Lav. What have I done so much offensive to 
The supreme powers, that they should punish me 
Not only with the madness of my subjects, 
But the distraction of my wife and sister % 

Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 
What do I see 1 They do embrace and kiss ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 189 

My sister's madness will undo her ! How 

He came at liberty I marvel much. 

Whom I would have to lie in prison walk in freedom ; 

and whom I would have in freedom run of themselves 

to prison. 

Pru. Most noble brother ! 

Lav. Sister, I grieve to see thee thus. 

Hora. Excellent Prince ! 

Lav. Sure the good angels, that had wont to guard 
The Medicis in all their actions, 
Have for the horrid sins of Florence left us, 
And fled to heaven ! 

Hora. His mind again is altered. 

Pru. Dear brother, do not frown and look so angry. 

Lav. Peace, sister, I'm asham'd to hear you speak ; 
Each word you say is poison in my ears. 
Pucannello ! Jailor ! 

Puc. I come. [Within. 

Pru. What mean you, sir % 

Hora. I must again to prison. Fickle fortune, 
How soon a happy man thou makest wretched ! 

Enter Pucannello. 

Lav. Sirrah, why did you set this man Brunetto, 
Or this Horatio — I know not what to call him — 
At liberty 1 ? 

Puc. Will he ne'er be wise 1 — Your Highness bade 
me. 

Lav. 1 1 Bethink you, and answer truly ! 

Puc. Your Highness knows I durst not for my life 
Ha' done 't without your licence. 

Pru. Sweet brother ! 

Lav. Silence would become you better far. 

Hora. Life of my heart, do not disturb yourself; 
I am unworthy you should speak for me. 

Lav. Sirrah, take him again, and look to him better 
than you have. Your madness shall not excuse you 
if once more you serve me thus. 

Hora. I must be patient. Good heavens, soon alter 



190 TRAPPOLIN. 

this sullen fit into his former kindness ! Farewell, myi 
sweet Prudentia ! [Exeunt with Horatio. 

Pru. I wonder, brother, what pleasure you take / 
In crossing me after this sort ! 

Lav. It is vain to answer frantic people. ; 

Pru. 1 1 — I am mad ? 'Tis your perverseness 
makes me. [Exeunt. 

Scene hi. 

Enter Trappolin, solus. 

Tra. Yet I cannot meet with the Duke. I long to 
see him look like me. I would fain powder his High- 
ness. Eo, Meo, and Areo, I thank you, faith — my hat, 
my glass, and cloak ! Honest father conjuror, I will 
love thee while I live ! 

Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 

Hell's broke loose again ! I do what the Duke undoes, 
and he undoes what I do. . , ; 

Mac. Long live your Highness ! 

Tra. Amen. 

Bar. And happily ! 

Tra. Amen, I say. But how, my small friends, 
came you hither I I thought you had been under lock 
and key. 

Mac I fear he's ill as e'er he was. 

Tra. Sirrah Pucannello ! so ho ! so ho ! Gome 
hither, you rogue. 

Bar. We must in again. 

Mac. Good gods, will this frenzy never leave him % 

Enter Pucannello. 

Tra. Goodman dirty-face, why did you not keep me 
these in prison till I bid you let them out % 

Puc. So please your Highness, so I did. 

Tra. Dare you lie so boldly 1 You take me for a! 
doctor, — Gracian of Franckolin, I warrant you, — or a 
fool in a play, you're so saucy with me ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 191 

Mac. Good gods ! 

Bar. Was ever heard the like 1 

Puc. Beseech your Highness to remember yourself ! 

Tra. Now I bethink myself, perhaps I might do it 
when I was drunk. If I did bid you give them liberty, 
it was when I was foxed, and now I am sober lay 
them up again. Walk, my good lord banishers ; your 
honours know the way. 

Puc. Will this humour never leave him 1 

Par. We must endure it. 

Mac. There is no remedy. 

Tra. My lord prisoners, get you gone ; I am 
an hungry, and cannot stand to hear any suppli- 
cation. 

Puc. You must obey, my lords. [Exeunt. 

' Tra. Yet all goes well, all goes exceeding well — 
My will's obeyed ; I am suppos'd the Duke ; 
My hat, my glass, and cloak retain their force ; 
And father conjuror does not forsake me. [Exit. 

Scene iv. 

Enter Mattemores, the Spanish Captain, solus. 

Mat. Though, horrid war, thou bear'st a bloody 
sword, 
And marchest o'er the world in dreadful arms ! 
Though fearful mankind, on their humble knees, 
Beseech the gods to keep thee from their homes ! 
Yet art thou, when trick' d up in dismal robes, . 
Presaging death and ruin to a state, 
More lovely to a valiant soldier's eyes 
Than are the pleasures of a wanton court ! 
And sure, if our great Duke Lavinio 
Had been i' th' field expecting of a foe, 
He ne'er had been distracted as he is ! 
'Tis peace that doth bewitch us from ourselves, 
Fills most heroic hearts with amorous toys, 
And makes us to forget what honour is ! 
But, for Hipolita's sake, I must not speak 



192 TRAPPOLIN. 

Anything ill of love. Love, I must say, 
Is good, but war leads the more noble way. 

Enter Lavinio. 

Lav. How do you, Captain I 

Mat. I am your Highness' creature. 

Lav. Saw you not lately Barbarino or Machavil % 

Mat. Yes. 

Lav. Where are they 1 

Mat. Your Highness knows, in prison. 

Lav. heavens, in prison again ! Good gods, when 
will you remove this frenzy from the Florentines? 

Mat. I see there is little hope on him. 

Lav. Why are they in prison ? 

Mat. Because your Highness did command. 

Lav. Never, Captain ; I never did command it ! Go 
and bid Pucannello let them out. 

Mat. Sir, he dares not at my bidding. 

Lav. Here, take my ring, and do 't ! 

Mat. One humdur in the morning, and another in 
the afternoon ! Will it never be better % [Exit. 

Lav. Would I did know what heinous sin it is 
I have committed that is so offensive 
Unto the gods to cause this punishment, 
That I might sue unto them for forgiveness, 
And they be reconciled and pity Florence ! 
I'm full and full of wonder. Perhaps some fiend, 
Permitted by the heavens, assumes my shape, 
And what I do undoeth. Was ever known 
Such a distraction in the world before 1 

Enter Teappolin. 

Tra. At last I have found him. 

Lav. This the impostor is that hath deceiv'd 
The eyes of all ; it can be nothing else. 

Tra. I vow and swear I am something afraid ; but I 
will be bold. Eo, Meo, and Areo, sit close ! Come 
out, powder, come out ! Father conjuror, I rely on 
your powder. 
Take that for my sake ! [Flings it on him. 



TRAPPOLIN. 193 

Lav. What rudeness is this % 

Tra. I have done % i' faith. Trappolin, I have 
repealed thee for Flametta's sake. 

Lav. How is this 1 
If thou art a fiend, the gracious heavens be kind, 
And give a period to thy wild proceedings ! 
But if thou art a conjuror, I'll have thee 
Burnt for thy magic, as thou dost deserve. 

Tra. Trappolin, talk wisely. 

Lav. Why dost thou call me so ? 

Tra. Aha ! a man forget himself so ! Art thou not 
he? 

Lav. I am the Duke. 

Tra. Beware of treason. Do you know your own 
face if you see it 1 Look here ! — what say you now ? 

Lav. I am bewitch'd ! Thou art a conjuror, 
And hast transform'd me to a banish'd rogue. 

Tra. For Flametta's sake I pardon thee this lan- 
guage, but learn to speak better, lest you walk again. 

[Exit. 

Lav. Heaven, earth, and hell have all agreed 
together 
To load me with a plague unknown before 
Unto the world ! The heavens have given consent 
Unto my misery ! Hell hath plotted it ! 
And the deceived earth believes me mad, 
And now will take me for a banish'd rogue ! 

Enter Flametta. 

Fla. Oh, joy above expression ! Behold, 
My Trappolin is come ! Love, welcome home ! 
Thou art beholding unto me, my dear ; 
'Twas I that won the Duke for thy repeal. 

Lav. I am amazed ! 

Fla. Give me a hundred kisses ! Let us spend 
An hour in kissing ; afterwards we'll talk. 

Lav. Away ! 

Fla. Have you forgotten me so soon 1 I am 
Thy true Flametta, lovely Trappolin ! 

Lav. Begone, I say !' 



194 TRAPPOLIN. 

Fla. Dost thou reward me thus for all the pains 
I've took to get thee home again ? 

Lav. Leave me, 

Thou impudent whore, or I will kick thee hence ! 

Fla. Oh, faithless men ! Women, by me take 
heed 
You give no trust unto this perjur'd sex ! 
Have I all thy long banishment been true ? — 
Kefused Lord Barbarino with all his gifts 1 — 
And am I slighted thus 1 I will complain 
Unto his Highness of thee ! 

Enter Mattemores. 

Lav. Have you done 't 1 

Mat. What? 

Lav. Have you set the lords at liberty 1 

Mat. What's that to thee 1 

Lav. Give me my ring ! 

Mat. He has heard the Duke sent me with his 
ring, and this impudent rogue dares think to get it. 
Sirrah, is it not enough to be a coward and a pander, 
but you would be a thief too ? 

Lav. I am bewitched ! 

Fla. I fear my Trappolin is turned madman. 

Lav. Suffer not this, ye gods ! 

Enter Trappolin. 

Mat. I have set the Lords Barbarino and Machavii 
at liberty, according to your Highness' order, and 
here is your ring again. 

Tr a. Better and better. — I marvel where the Prince 
Horatio is 1 

Mat. He forgets everything. — He's in prison ! 

Tra. Sure he is not ! 

Lav. How this impostor devil acts me ! 

Mat. Your Highness did commit him. 

Tra. Fie upon % what things do I do in my drink ! 
Here, take my ring ; go and set him out, and come 
hither with him presently. 



TRAPPOLIN. 195 

Lav. I am the Duke, and will be obey'd ! 
Go not, upon your life ! He shall lie there. 

Fla. Sure my Trappolin 's run mad for grief in his 
banishment. 

Mat. Peace, frantic, peace ! do not disturb his High- 
ness ! 

Tra. Regard not madmen. Go ! 

Mat. I'm gone. [Exit. 

Lav. Thou traitor ! 

Fla. Dear Trappolin, be silent ; regard my tears ! 
Thou wilt undo thyself. 

Tra. Maiden, an your sweetheart continue thus, 
I'll have him sent abroad again. 

Enter Prudentia. 

Fla. Sweet Trappolin, for my sake hold thy 
tongue ! 

Lav. I rage in vain — good heavens be merciful ! 

Fru. Dear brother, pity me ; regard my sorrow ! 
Release the Prince Horatio, and no longer 
Separate their bodies whose hearts the gods have 
joined. 

. Tra. Sister, have patience a little, a very little ; 
Prince Horatio will be here presently, and I'll make 
an end with you. 

Lav. Prudentia, art thou not ashamed ? 

Fru. What sauciness is this % 
Most worthy noble brother, all my heart is full of 
thanks for you ! Would I'd a tongue could utter them ! 

Enter Mattemores and Horatio. 

Mat. Your Highness' ring. 

Tra. 'Tis well, Captain. Sister, and Prince Horatio, 
Here, take my signet ; by the warrant of it go 
And get you married. 

Hora. Our humble thanks ! 

Lav. I do want patience. 

Hora. 'Tis best to do it whilst he's in good 
humour. 
Are you content, sweet Princess 1 



196 TRAPPOLIN. 

Pru. With all my soul I go. [Exeunt. 

Lav. Sister! sister! 

Mat. Peace, lest you be soundly punished, 
sirrah ! 

Fla. Good Trappolin, be quiet. 

Lav. I am the Duke ! — I am Lavinio ! 
This is a fiend of hell, or an impostor. 

Mac. Will your Highness suffer this 1 

Tra. I pity him ; he knows not what he says. 

Lav. I am bewitched ! 

Mat. I am sure thou art distracted. 

Tra. 'A done, you had best ! 

Lav. Thou enemy unto our happiness, 
Know the gods will relent ; in time be wise ! 

Tra. There is no remedy; he must go to Pucan- 
nello. 
So ho ! Pucannello ! so ho ! 

Puc. I come ! [Within. 

Fla. There could come no better of it. Beseech 
your Highness, pardon him ; he's distracted ! 

Lav. You are all distracted, all bewitched ! 

. Enter Pucannello. 

Tra. Sirrah, take Trappolin, and lock him up safe. 

Fla. You'd take no warning. 

Lav. Oh, Florence, how I pity thy decay ! 

Tra. Away with him ! 

Mat. Pucannello, take him, and begone ! 

Tra. You of the guards, see him laid safely up. 

Lav. I will not go ! 

Puc. We then might force you. [Exeunt. 

Fla. Alas ! poor Flametta ! thy Trappolin cares 
not for thee. I beseech the gods to give him his 
right senses again ! 

Tra. Come, Captain ! 

Mat. I attend your Highness. [Exeunt. 



trappolin. 197 

Scene v. 
Enter Barbarino and Machavil. 

Mac. The strange distraction of our Duke will give 
Sufficient matter unto chronicles 
To make whole volumes of him. 

Bar. Yet he believes himself right in his senses, 
And we, out of our wits, think him mad ! 

Lavinio appears in prison. 

Lav. Would I had been born to a mean estate, 
So in 't I might have lived happily ! 
The greater honours that men have, the greater 
Their troubles are. The beggar that hath nothing 
Lives a more quiet life than monarchs do. 
Lord Barbarino and Lord Machavil, 
Get me releas'd ! I am the Duke Lavinio, 
Bewitched, as you are, by an impostor. 

Bar. Go, Trappolin, and sleep. We have heard all — 
Thou art run mad. 

Mac. Go sleep, poor Trappolin ! 

Lav. Be kind ; good gods pity our miseries ! 

Bar. Leave talking, and go sleep. 

Enter Trappolin. 

Mac. His Highness. 

Bar. How fares our noble master % 

Tra. I have not been sober a day together this good 
while. Eo, Meo, and Areo have made me foxed ; but 
now I will leave it. 

Mac. Who are they 1 

Bar, I know not. 

Tra. It's in vain to lay them up any more, I 
having had sport enough with them. — Trappolin, 
whom you banish'd, is come home stark mad. 

Mac, Exceedingly. 

Bar. And raves most strangely in prison. 



198 TRAPPOLIN. 

Enter Flametta. 

Fla. Here is his Highness. I will not leave him till 
He doth release from prison Trappolin. 
Most excellent sir, perfect your noble kindness — 
Give liberty unto poor Trappolin ! 

Tra. With all my heart I would, would he be quiet. 

Fla. Alas ! he is distracted, and doth not know 
What he says ; and therefore why should you regard 
him? 

Tra. Well, fair maid, for thy sake, that lovest him 
so, he shall come out. Pucannello ! so ho ! Come 
hither ! 

Bar. He will do anything, and undo anything. 

Mac. Sure there was never such a duke i' th' world ! 

Enter Horatio and Prudentia. 

Tra. Welcome, sister and brother, I hope I may 
say ! Are you married 1 — are you content ? Tell me 
if anything remains that I can do for you. Speak it, 
for I am ready ; the Duke, your servant. 

Pre. Most worthy brother, you have perfected our 
joys, for we are married ! 

Tra. I am very glad, lady sister, that you are so. 

Horn. Here is your Highness' ring. 

Enter Pucannello. 

Tra. You, sirrah of chains and keys, set me Trap- 
polin at liberty presently, and send him hither ! 

Puc. Will he never be wise 1 I would he would 
make another jailor — I am weary of the place. I can 
never be at quiet for putting in and setting out. 

Fla. The heavens reward your goodness ! 

[Exit Pucannello. 

Tra. Brother and Prince Horatio, I am something 
given to be drunk. Eo, Meo, and Areo are good fel- 
lows ; but, I pray you, pardon me. 

Ilora. Sir, you wrong yourself. 

Tra. My friend and Prince Horatio, I'll ne'er 
wrong myself, I warrant you. But you I have, and 



TRAPPOLIN. 199 

my sister Prudentia ; but it was when I was foxed, 
and I will never be so again. 

Enter Mattemores and Hipolita, 

Mac. I am glad he will once let us be quiet. 

Bar. I should be very glad if he would continue it. 

Tra. How now, Signor Captain ! ha' you got a 
sweetheart 1 

Mat. A fair mistress, so please your Highness. 

Tra. I see, my Don-at-arms, when you cannot follow 
the wars of the field, you will of the bed. 

Enter Lavinio. 

Fla. Prithee, my Trappolin, now hold thy tongue ! 
Be wise, my love. 

Lav. Leave me, thou frantic fool ! 

Tra. For Flametta's sake I have given you your 
liberty ; use it well. 

Lav. heavens ! endure not this impostor thus 
With his enchantments to bewitch our eyes ! 

Mac. Will he suffer him? 

Bar. Perhaps one madman will pity another. 

Lav. Ye Florentines, I am Lavinio — ■ 
I am the Tuscan Duke ; this an enchanter, 
That by his magic art hath raised all 
These strange chimeras in my court ! 

Mat. Your Highness is too patient ; it were more 
fit he rav'd in prison. 

Fla. Sweet Trappolin, be rul'd. 

Tra. Hold your tongue, I say. 

Hora. Poor Trappolin ! art thou distracted too 1 

Lav. You lords of Florence, wise Machavil, and 
You, Lord Barbarino, will you never come 
Out of this frenzy 1 Valiant Mattemores, 
I am the Duke ! I am Lavinio ! 
This, whom you do suppose is me, is some 
Hellish magician, that hath bewitched us all ! 

Tra. He will not be ruled. Pucannello, take him 
again ! 



200 TRAPPOLIN. 

Fla. Beseech your Highness ! — Trappolin, come 
away. 

Pru. Ah, my poor subjects, how I pity you, 
That must obey the monstrous wickedness 
Of one that works by necromantic means, 
And is forsaken by the blessed gods ! 

Tra. Away with him ! 

Enter Mago. 

Mago. Stay! 

Tra. Yon 's father conjuror ! 

Bar. What new accident is this 1 

Tra. I hope he'll do no hurt. 

Hora. What will the event be, marie ? 

Mat. What old long beard's this ? 

Mago. A word with you ! 
Will you, if I clear everything, 
Pardon what's past % 

Lav. Do you know me, then 1 

Mago. You are the Duke. 

Tra. Father conjuror, do no hurt, and I'll give you 
a hundred pistoles to buy you sallets and oil i'th' 
wood. 

Mago. I'll talk with you even now. 
Will you promise me ? 

Lav. I swear by all the honours of my state, 
By both my dukedoms, Florence and Sienna, 
I will forgive whatever's past ! 

Mago. Him and all ] 

Lav. Him and all. 

Tra. Good father conjuror, remember your son ! 

Mac. What will come of this 1 

Mago. Be not affrighted. 

Mat. Never, not I ! 

Mago. Whate'er you see, 
Fear not ; nothing shall hurt you. 

Pru. This is a conjuror. 

Hip. Sweet Captain, stand close by me. 

Bar. What strange events are these ? 

Mago. Eo, Meo, and Areo, appear ! 



TRAPPOLIN. 201 

Tra. I am undone, I fear. Father conjuror, re- 
member your son. I'll give you two hundred pistoles ! 
Mago. Appear, I say ! 

Enter Eo, Meo, and Areo. 

Pru. Alas ! 

Hora. Fear nothing. 

Hip. O me ! 

Mat. Be bold ; I am here, Hipolita ! 

Mago. Go, take the hat, the glass, and cloak from 
him. 

Tra. Ah me ! ah me ! Here, here, here, here — come 
not too near me ! Eo, Meo, and Areo, farewell, all on 
you ! Father conjuror has undone me ! 

Bar. Trappolin 1 

Mac. Two Trappolins 1 

Fla. I know not which is mine ! 

Mago. Attend a while ! 
Thus, with the waste of this enchanted wand, 
I do release your Highness. 

Mat. The Duke? 

Hora. Wonders ! 

Mago. You have engaged your word : y'ave pardoned 
all — me, who have done and undone everything, and 
him, and everybody! 

Lav. I have. 

Mac. The heavens be praised ! Long live your 
Highness ! 

Omnes. Long live the Duke ! 

Hora. What will become of me 1 

Mago. I'll perfect everything. 
Brave Prince Horatio, your elder brother, 
Prince Filberto, is dead. Sir, you cannot 
With reason dislike this match ; they are 
Married, and your consent doth perfect it. 

Lav. Now I am assured he is a Turin prince, 
Heir to the dukedom of Savoy, I am glad 
They are espoused. Sister, I wish you joy ! 
Sir, I entreat forgiveness for what's past ! 



202 TRAPPOLIN. 

Hora. All's forgotten. 

Pru. Thanks, gracious heavens ! 

Lav. I'll have your wedding solemnized with 
state. 

Mac. I am glad this Gordian knot's untied. 

Tra. I shall be hanged, father conjuror. 

Mago. The Duke hath pardoned you and me all. 

Tra. Then let Eo, Meo, and Areo go to the devil, 
from whence they came. Flametta, I am thine ! 

Fla. Ah, my dear Trappolin ! 

Tra. Here is your Highness' ring. 

Mago. From henceforth I abjure my wicked art. 

Hor. I for thy love to me will send thee into 
Piedmont, and give thee an earldom in Vercelli. 

Tra. The heavens reward you ! You know I 
always made much of your Highness' majesty. Fla- 
metta, thou shalt be a countess ! 

Mago. Son Trappolin, I am thy natural father, 
twenty years since banished ten years from Florence. 
Through my misfortune I have served the Turk in 
his galleys. 

Tra. By your leave, father, you have served the 
devil too, I'm sure, for you are one of the best con- 
jurors in the world. Welcome unto the court, your 
son of honour, and to Flametta's earlship ! Will your 
honours forgive me too 1 

Mac. Yes. 

Enter Isabella. 

Bar. For the princess' sake, I do. 

Tra. I thank you both. Now all's well again. 
Henceforth I will live honestly, and be the devil's 
butcher no longer ! 

Lav. My Isabella, welcome ! Everything 
That did molest our happiness in Florence 
Is took away. Now we will spend our time 
In courtly joys ; our famous Tuscan poets 
Shall study amorous comedies and masks, 
To entertain my beauteous Milaness. 



TRAPPOLIN. 203 

I have a story full of ridiculous wonders, 
Within to tell thee at our better leisure. 

Tra. The weaker side must yield unto the stronger, 
And Trappolin's suppos'd a Prince no longer. 

[Exemt omnes. 



The Epilogue. 

Ladies and gentlemen, you that now may 

Approve, or, if you please, condemn our play, 

We thank you first ; for here it was not writ, 

In sweet repose and fluencies of wit, 

But far remote — at Eome begun, half made 

At Naples, at Paris the conclusion had. 

Yet the perfection is behind, which, if 

You give's a plaudit, you in England give ; 

Our nation's courteous unto strangers, nor 

Should you refrain unto this traveller. 

I must not sue ; there's nothing now remains 

Saving the guerdon of our poet's pains : 

He for himself is careless, only would 

That for the actors' sakes you'd say 'tis good. 

We are doubtful yet, your hands will set all right ; 

Do what you please, and, gentlemen, good-night ! 



THE TRAGEDY OF OVID. 



The Tragedy of Ovid. Written by Sir Aston CoJcain, 
Baronet. London, Printed for Phil. Stephens, jun., at the 
King's Arms, over against Middle Temple Gate, in Fleet 
Street. 1662. 

The Tragedy of Ovid. Written by Sir Aston CoJcain, 
Baronet. London, Printed for Francis KirJcman, and are to 
be sold at his shop, under St. Fthelborough's Church, in Bishops- 
gate Street. 1669. 16mo. 



Publius Oviditjs Naso, who gives the title to this tragedy, was 
born at Sulmo, on 20th March, about forty-three years before the 
Christian era. Intended by his father for the bar, he was sent 
early to Rome, thence, in his sixteenth year, to Athens ; but 
although he excelled in the study of eloquence, the natural bent 
of his mind was poetry, and in despite of every remonstrance, 
and the proverbial poverty of poets, he still continued to follow 
in the wake of the Muse Erato. He soon gained admirers, and 
"Virgil, Tibullus, Propertius, and Horace corresponded with him. 
Augustus himself patronized him most liberally ; but having 
incurred that Emperor's displeasure, he was, in his fiftieth year, 
banished to Tomos, a town on the western shores of the Euxine 
Sea. The cause of this sudden exile is doubtful, but these lines 
from his pen would seem to indicate that it was in consequence 
of his having come to a knowledge of some great impropriety in 
the court or family of Augustus : 



Again : 



; Cur aliquid vidi ? Cur noxia lumina feci ? 

Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mini est? 
Nescius Actaeon vidit sine veste Dianam, 

Prseda fuifc canibus non minus ille suis." 



" Nescia quod crimen viderunt lumina plector, 
Peccatumque oculos est habuisse meum." 



And further : 

"Perdiderunt cum me duo crimina, carmen et error, 
Alterius facti culpa silenda mini est." 

In his banishment, Ovid applied frequently to the Emperor, 
in lines of entreaty and adulation, for a remission of his sentence, 
but without effect ; nor was Tiberius more yielding than his pre- 
decessor to Ovid's petitions, backed though they were by many 
ardent and influential friends at Rome. He did not live long 
after this. His death took place in the fifty-ninth year of his 
age, a.d. 17, and he was buried in the land of his exile. 

The greater part of Ovid's poems are extant. His Metamor~ 
phoses, in fifteen books, are curious, on account of the mytho- 
logical traditions which they record. His Fasti were divided 
into twelve books, six of which have been lost, which is much 
to be regretted, as, judging from the books which remain, much 
light would have been thrown upon the religious rites and cere- 
monies, festivals and sacrifices, of the ancient Romans. His 
Tristia, in five books, as well as his Elegies, exhibit much ele- 
gance and refinement of expression. The Heroides are, in 
poetic diction, excellent. His three books of Amorum, and the 
same number De Arte Amandi, with the De Remedio Amoris, 



208 ovid. 

are equally redolent of fine poetic imagery, but their insidious 
tendency is apt to corrupt the heart and engender immorality. 
He wrote some other pieces, among which is a fragment of a 
tragedy called Medea, no doubt influenced by the common belief 
that it was at Tomos where Medea cut to pieces the body of her 
brother Absyrtus. Ovid was thrice married. He had only 
one daughter, but by which of his three wives is unknown ; she 
herself became the mother of two children by two husbands. 

Of Ovid's Tragedy, Langbaine — Art. Cokain — says: "This 
play was printed since the rest of his works, though 'tis fre- 
quently bound with them. I know not why the author gave 
this play the title of Ovid's Tragedy, except that he lays the 
scene in Tomos, and brings him to fall down dead with grief at 
the news he received from Eome, in sight of the audience ; 
otherwise he has not much business on the stage, and the play 
ought rather to have taken the name from Bassanes' jealousy 
and the dismal effects thereof, — the murder of his new bride 
Clorina, and his friend Pyrontus. But this is an error which 
Beaumont and Fletcher have heretofore committed, as Mr. 
Eymer has observed, in A King and No King, and therefore 
more excusable in our author. The passage of Captain Han- 
nibal's inviting the dead carcase of Helvidius to supper is 
possibly borrowed from the Italian play called II Atheisto 
Fulminato, to which language our author was no stranger, and 
on which foundation the catastrophe of The Libertine is built," 
i. e. Moliere's Don Juan, ou le festin de Pierre. Some portions 
of the plot and language, which in themselves are good, derive 
their source from Ovid's Elegies. The situation of Alonzo, 
Carlos, and Leonora, in Young's Revenge, is not unlike that of 
Bassanes, Pyrontus, and Clorina in this tragedy. 

Charles Cotton, to whom this play is dedicated, is best known 
from having been the friend of Izaak Walton, and author of the 
second part of the Complete Angler. He resided for a great 
part of his life at Beresford, in the county of Stafford. He 
had some reputation for lyric poetry, but was particularly famous 
for burlesque poetry. He translated Corneille's Horace, printed 
in 4to, 1671, with a dedication to his dear sister, Mrs. Stanhope 
Hutchinson. Of his burlesque works, Scarronides, or Virgil 
Travestie, which appeared in 1678, and has been frequently 
reprinted, has been always regarded as exceeding not only the 
French, but all those who made any attempts in that kind of 
poetry, the incomparable author of Hudibras excepted. His 
translation of Montaigne's Essays, in three volumes, is still 
considered the best. Some of his minor poems, published 
collectively in 1689, are of great excellence, and the volume has 
commendatory verses by Colonel Lovelace, Sir Aston Cockain, 
Eobert Herrick, and Mr. Alexander Brome. 

The date of his death is uncertain, but it has been conjec- 
tured that it was some time after the Revolution. 



TO MY MOST HIGHLY HONOURED COUSIN", 
CHARLES COTTON, Esq. 

Noble Cousin, as soon as I had finished this play of 
mine, called the Tragedy of Ovid, I sent it to wait 
upon you at your house in Beresford, where it found 
so courteous and generous an entertainment, that I 
should accuse myself of much ingratitude did I not 
dedicate it to you, and entreat your favour that it 
might visit the world under the secure patronage of 
your authentic name. I beseech you, therefore, to 
afford it so much grace, and to give it leave to lie in 
your parlour window, since you have been pleased to 
signalize it with two excellent epigrams. This is but 
a small testimony of my thankfulness to you for an 
abundancy of high and obliging favours that I have, 
upon all occasions, received from you. To which you 
will infinitely add by continuing in your good opinion, 

Sir, 

Your very affectionate kinsman, 

And most humble servant, 

Aston Cokain. 



AN EPIGRAM. 

TO THE AUTHOR, 
UPON HIS TRAGEDY OF OVID. 

Lqng live the poet and his lovely muse, 

The stage with wit and learning to infuse ! 

Embalm him in immortal elegy, 

My gentle Naso ; for if he should die 

Who makes thee live, thou 'It be again pursu'd, 

And banish'd heaven for ingratitude ! 

Transform again thy Metamorphoses 

In one, and turn thy various shapes to his. 

A twin-born muse in such embraces curl'd 

As shall subject the scribblers of the world, 

And, spite of time and envy, henceforth sit, 

The ruling gemini of love and wit. 

So two pure streams in one smooth channel glide, 

In even motion, without ebb or tide, 

As in your pens Tiber and Anchor meet, 

And tread meanders with their silver feet. 

Both soft, both gentle, both transcending high, 
Both skill'd alike in charming elegy ; 
So equally admired, the laurel's due, 
Without distinction, both to him and you. 

Naso was Rome's fam'd Ovid ; you alone 
Must be the Ovid to our Albion, 
In all things equal, saving in this case, 
Our modern Ovid has the better grace. 

Charles Cotton, Philodramatos. 



TO THE AUTHOE, ON CAPTAIN HANNIBAL. 



AN EPIGRAM. 

Your Captain Hannibal does snort and puff, 

Arm'd in his brazen face and greasy buff, 

'Mongst Puncks and Panders, and can rant and roar 

With Cacala the turd and his poor whore ; 

But I would wish his valour not mistake us, 

All captains are not like his brother Dacus. 

Advise him, then, be quiet, or I shall 

Bring Captain Hough to baste your Hannibal. 

Charles Cotton. 



I 



DKAMATIS PEBSON.E. 



Pyrontus, . . 
Phylocles, . . 
Bassanes, . . 
Marullus, . . 
Phcebianus, . . 

called also 
Hannibal, . . 
Cacala, . . . 
Publius Ovidius 
Dacus, . • • 



A young Lord. 

His Friend. 

A young Lord. 

His Friend. 

Pyrontus 1 younger Brother, 

Caralinda. 

A banish' d Italian Captain. 

A young Fellow, his man. 

Naso. 

A Getic Captain. 



Clorina, . 

Armelina, 

Cypassis, 

Spinella, 

Floretta, 



Bassanes' Bride. 

Her Sister. 

A Bawd. 

Her Daughter, a Courtezan of Tomos. 

A Borrtan Courtezan. 



Maskers. 



A Spectre. 



Servants. 



The Scene ; — 
Tomos, a city in Pontus. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

A MANY famous poets do not refuse 
"With prologues to usher in the tragic muse : 
The reason, gallants, I presume to say- 
To Tomos you are welcome all to-day. 
For fear, lest when y'ave seen % you should repent 
[Of loss which then you cannot well prevent], 
I tell you, though our play is new, 'tis writ 
After an ill old mode, with little wit ; 
For in it there is a devil and a fool — 
Such sights as boys affect that go to school. 
This said, you have our leave, without offence, 
To take your money again, and to go hence. 
Nothing of Ovid, then ! Enough, enough 
Dancing and fighting, and much amorous stuff. 
If any of these invite your stay, pray know 
We hope to please you, whether you will or no. 
But if you shall dislike it, gentlemen, 
Revenge yourselves, and never see 't again ! 



THE TRAGEDY OF OVID. 



Act i. — Scene i. 

Enter Pyrontus furiously, intending to fall upon his 
sword, and Phylocles after him, who with his foot 
strikes it away. 

Pyr. Uncivil man, begone ! before my rage 
Increases above my troubled patience, 
And I for this untimely courtesy 
Make thee to harbinger my soul in death ! 

Phyl. Alas, my lord ! why will you take away 
The noblest life that ever honour'd Pontus 1 
I pray you, think upon 't. 

Pyr. I am resolved ; 

Nor will I live to see Clorina made 
A wife to any man besides myself. 

Phyl. Ah! who would not run mad, and tear his 
hair, 
And weep until his eyeballs did dissolve, 
To see the bravest man of all this land 
So passionate, and for a scornful lady 1 

Pyr. Kill me, Phylocles ! thou wilt do a deed 
The gods will love thee for ; for I am one 
Full of those things that virtuous souls abhor, 
Else sure Clorina would not use me thus. 

Phyl. To my own death, to do you real service, 
You may command me readily, my lord ; 
But to entice me to advance my hand 
Against your life — great Jove, and all the gods 
Whom we do reverence and fear, forbid ! 



216 ovm. 

Pyr. Phylocles, dost thou love me % 

Phyl. You know, my lord, I do, above my life ! 
In our late wars, when we did aid our friends 
The fortunate Romans, I attended you ; 
And when your horse's fall left you a prey 
Unto the barbarous cruelty of the Parthians, 
I, careless of my life, ran to your aid, 
And brought you off through many of their deaths. 
Command me anything, so you except 
Your noble life, and I will do it freely ! 

Pyr. As well except you will not stir a foot 
To do your friend the greatest favour for him, 
Which with an ease, so easy as is walking, 
You may perform. 

Phyl. What would you have me do ? 

Pyr. Begone, my Phylocles ! Is this a day 
For me to honour with my life, wherein 
Clorina, slighting all my years of service, 
Which I have paid to her with as great fervour 
As any of our priests adore the gods, 
Will give away herself unto Bassanes 1 
Away, my friend, and let me die ! 

Phyl. My lord, I will obey you, on condition 
That I may find you as I leave you — safe, 
And, till I see you next, untouched, and living ! 
I have some hope I may bring comfort with me — 
Calm all these passions, and create a joy 
That may occasion triumphs in your heart. 

Pyr. Go then, my friend, and prosper ; but be sure 
Thou dost not trifle with me. Thou well knowest 
The nature of Pyrontus is averse 
To suffering of abuses. 

Phyl. I am gone, 

With hope to bring you comfort speedily. [Exit. 

Pyr. False tyrant, love ! I would I had thee here ! 
With thy own bow I'd shoot such passions in thee 
As should be overstrong for thee to bear. 
Fond boy ! I'd make thee dote on chaste Diana, 
And pluck thy golden feathers from thy wings, 
To write with them repentance to the world. 



ovid. 217 

Which of the fatal sisters did provoke 

Thee, careless of man's happiness, to do 

Those bloody deeds which thou art famous for 1 

O, that I knew her ! and when I am dead 

I'd pass the dreadful waves of Phlegethon 

But I would find her, and destroy her too ! 

Upon Ixion's wheel I'd torture her, 

Till with her baleful cries she did awake 

The porter Cerberus from his drowsy den ; 

Then would I give her body unto him, 

And he should eat it, and she be forgot. 

But, cruel love, hadst thou been kind to me, 

And equal fire raged in Clorina's breast, 

Not only in Tomos, but throughout all Pontus, 

I would have raised altars to thy praise, 

Where night and day, whilst time makes night and 

day, 
I would have had such anthems caroll'd to thee 
By happy lovers, that eternal Jove 
Should have wish'd himself to have been the god of 

love ! 

Enter Ovid, Phylocles, and Armelina. 

Phyl. My lord ! the beauteous lady Armelina, 
Attended by the poets' glory, Ovid, 
By the entreaty of the excellent bride, 
Are come to woo you to your life ! 

Pyr. 'Tis a miraculous kindness that the fair 
Clorina on this solemn day affords me. 
Had she but pleased t' have been so merciful 
In former times, I had not drooped thus 
Now all the city Tomos lays aside 
Neglected care, and puts on jollity. 
Madam, what is the pleasure of my deity 1 
And thou, full soul of poetry, sweet Ovid, 
What unimagin'd harmony of comfort 
Bring you unto me 1 

Arm. My lord, if that my sister 

Still doth retain the least of power over you, 



218 ovid. 

By me she doth entreat you to continue 

Among the living. By all the love you have 

Profess'd unto her, she conjures you t' bear 

The chances of this day worthy your birth * 

And all the noble actions of your life. 

Ovid. It is an unbecoming weakness in you, 
Degenerating from the former fulness 
Of all your honours, all your immense knowledge 
Of sage philosophy, and of yourself, 
Thus to captive your reason, and become 
Slave to the passions of an heart let loose 
To the pursuit of barbarous appetites. 

Pyr. Sweet Armelina ! you whose every word 
Strikes music through my ears unto my soul — 
You who in your soft language have apparell'd 
The commands of my goddess, must have power 
To make me die continually by living. 

Ovid. Assume a better courage, and contemn 
These trifles which you rashly deem misfortunes. 
My lord ! you are the glory of this country, — i 

The basis upon which not only Tomos, 
But the nobility of Pontus, build 
Their glories on, instructed hitherto 
By imitating you, their great example. 
A little time may alter your opinion 
Of beauty. You may chance to see ere long 
Another lady that may please you better ; 
And then this day you do account so miserable 
You in your calendar will mark a festival. 

Pyr. Peace, gentle Ovid ! this is blasphemy 1 

Against the divinity of her fair soul, 
And that rich heaven of happiness, her body. 
Jove hath no beauty like her on Olympus : 
She's nature's masterpiece, and glorifies 
This angle of the world so, that I prize it 
Above triumphant Rome, and all the splendours 
The court of great Tiberius is renowned for. 

Ovid. You shall overcome me ; so you will your- 
self: 
Say anything, my lord, and I will hear you— 



ovid. 219 

Do anything, and I will honour it, 

So you forbear to trespass 'gainst your life ! 

Arm. My sister doth expect, if you have ever 
Borne real affection to her, that you should 
Return her word by me that you will lose 
This resolution of self-murder. She will 
Love you as far as honour will give leave, 
Entertain welcomely your company 
And conversation, whilst you prove yourself 
Delighted with her virtue. And she knows 
The Lord Bassanes will most joyfully 
Continue you within the catalogue 
Of his friends most belov'd, while you exceed not 
The limits of a candid amity, 
Nor attempt treason to her nuptials. 

Phyl. I see a calmness in your looks, my friend. 
Thanks, gracious madam, for your pains ; and may 
Thy Eoman gods reward this kindness, Ovid ! 
Yet he were savage that had ears so deaf, 
And dull an intellect, as not to yield 
To your great reason and most eloquent tongue. 

Ovid. Your partial love doth too much overvalue 
My poor endeavours. Hark ! [Music within. 

Arm. The music doth 

Invite us in. Pray ! glorify this ceremony 
With your fair presence. 

Phyl. Hymen will, my lord, 

Owe you a blessing for it. 

Ovid. Light a more 

Auspicious torch, and, for a courtesy 
So timely given, drown your more happy head 
With future bliss above your hopes. [Exit Ovid. 

Pyr. Lead in ! . 

I'll but collect myself and follow you. Armelina ! 

Arm. You will oblige us all. 

Pyr. My friend Phylocles ! 

Phyl. I am here, my lord. 

Pyr. Oh, how a thousand passions combat here ! 
But which of them shall prove predominant ? 
Commands, received from my fair, cruel mistress, 



220 ovid. 

Already have determined what strange miracles, 

Great deity of love, are in thy power ! 

Affection prompts me to advance my hand, 

And turn the genial bed into an urn 

By setting this Bassanes' soul at liberty. 

But I must needs recall this infant thought, 

Or an inglorious stain may fix upon 

My reputation. He was ever noble 

In all his actions to me, and we 

Have long ago contracted such a friendship 

That it hath been look'd on as an example 

Worthy an imitation. Besides, he 

Was never made acquainted with my love ; 

He, then, is innocent of any injury 

Committed against me, and doth no more 

Than I. The bright Clorina he affects, 

And so do I ; and so must all the world 

That are not blind, or senseless, when they see her. 

His stars befriend him, and those eyes of heaven 

Did look a squint at my nativity ; 

And he hath far more merit to deserve her. 

Come, Phylocles ! She is my only goddess, 

And I must quit me of profaneness, too ; 

What she commands, strike no forbidden blow. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene ii. 
Enter Dacus, Cypassis, and Spinella. 

Spin. Mother ! Captain Dacus promis'd me a new 
gown against this masque, and hath not kept his 
word with me. I desire, therefore, I may be quit of 
his company. 

Dae. Pretty grumbling heart ! my tenants are slow 
in pa}dng their rents ; I else had not failed thee. But 
you are very fine as you are, Venus be thanked ! 

Spin. That's no cost of yours. I am the more be- 
holden to another friend. 



OVID. 221 

Dae. To whom] the bridegroom, I warrant you, 
Spinella. 

Spin. Tis he indeed ! 

Cyp. The Lord Bassanes was ever her noble 
patron. 

Dae. But I hope she will lose his bounty hereafter, 
Cypassis. 

Spin. Your jealousy prompts you to talk thus. 

Cyp. After honeymoon's past, he may return to her 
again. 

Spin. You shall become more liberal, or I will 
shortly cashier you from my acquaintance. What ! 
do you think we venture reputation for nothing but 
oaths, flattering words, and a little foolish pleasure 1 

Cyp. Indeed, son, a young gentlewoman must be 
maintained with other materials. If she goes not fine 
and cleanly, she is not fit for good company ; and if 
she keeps never so little a while ill, and it comes to 
be known, she may bid farewell for ever to all her 
holidays ; the honourable and worshipful will not 
care for her embraces. 

Dae. Are you against me too, mother 1 I had 
thought Madam Cypassis had had a great kindness 
for me than so. 

Cyp. Captain Dacus ! you know I have much re- 
spected you from our first acquaintance; but you 
must think of performing better with Spinella for the 
future. My poor girl else will not be able to live 
decently in the fashion, unless she should live more 
common than I could wish. 

Spin. Mother ! you shall not need to fear that, for I 
can be married when I will, and this wedding of 
my dear old friend invites me much to take that 
course. Juno ! direct me to the best, for Venus, 
whom I have hitherto served, is but an ill tutress ! 

Dae. Prithee, sweet Spinella, leave this melancholy 
discourse; it sounds too unkindly, especially on a 
marriage day. We should now talk of love, maiden- 
heads, music, banquets, masques, and so forth. 

Spin. Captain Dacus ! I must confess my genius is 



222 ovid. 

towards mirth indeed ; but you must not, then, give 
me cause of sorrow. 

Cyp. The truth is, Captain, you must not be so 
close-handed for the future. The Lord Bassanes 
being married, peradventure may turn foolishly uxo- 
rious; and then you must either get you better 
tenants 

Spin. Or a new mistress. 

Lac. Still in this key % 

Cyp. What hath been done yet hath been kept, 
private, and so it concerned all our reputations ; 
but, now I think better on it, it is your best way, 
Spinella, to take a husband if he be worth having. 

Spin. He can scarce be worse than this servant. 

Dae. Pretty one ! afford me better words, for I 
dearly love thee ; and, though I never made use of 
my credit yet in that kind, I will take up a new gown 
for thee to-morrow. On that condition I may take it 
up as often as I will. 

Spin. Then you shall have leave to do your best, 
or worst. 

Cyp. Agreed, agreed ! 
'Tis well y' are come. 

Enter Marullus. 

Spin. We thought Bassanes had forgotten us; but 
we meant, you see, to come unsent for. 

Mar. You might have been welcome if you had ; I 
should have got you good places. But Bassanes is a 
gentleman of his word, and hath sent me to conduct 
you accordingly. 

Spin. I thank his bridegroomship. 

Mar. You are angry, I warrant you, that he's 
married. 

Spin. Not I, Yenus bear me record ! Much good 
do him with his fresh meat; he will be weary of it, no 
doubt, ere long, as he hath been with others. So you 
may tell him, Marullus. 

Mar. And then you hope for him again 1 



OVID. 223 

Cyp. Juno and Diana defend ! I dare swear she 
hath no such thoughts. 

Dae. So durst not I. 

Mar. Nor I. 

Spin. I care not what you say ; you are both 
minded to jest with me. But is not the young 
Phcebianus returned from Eome against these solem- 
nities % 

Mar, Pyrontus wrote for him. 

Cyp. 'Tis marvel Bassanes would not stay for his 
arrival. 

Spin. No wonder at all ; all men are so mad of a 
new face when they can get it. 

Cyp. Though often they leave a better for it. 

Dae. Well said, mother ! thou speakest oracles, old 
Cypassis. 

Mar. With some regret. This marriage is not yet 
•digested by them in earnest. I must entreat you to 
beware of your behaviours. You are desir'd to pre- 
tend no acquaintance to the bridegroom. These slips 
of youth are fit to be conceal'd. 

Spin. Or Clorina may grow jealous 1 

Mar. 'Tis good preventing the worst. 'Tis time 
;we walk. [Exeunt mines. 



Scene hi. 

Laud .music, then enter Pyrontus, Bassanes, Phy- 
locles, Ovid, Clorina, Armelina. 

Bas. Welcome for ever to my hand, Clorina, 
Who, long hast been the regent of my heart ! 
This day hath made me owner of such riches, — 
The mine of joys in my delicious bride, — 
That I our mightiest Caesar do not envy. 
Why does my dearest blush 1 because thy modesty 
Doth see so many beauties here inferior 
To thy supremest one 1 But blush on, fairest, 
Like to a setting sun, at the approach 



224 OVID. 

Of this so longed-for night, that's to determine 
Your virgin honour. 

Clor. Now you make me blush 

Indeed, my lord. 

Pyr. I wish you, madam, a life so circled in 
With joy, that you may never breathe a sigh ; 
And, when you shall grow weary of the earth, 
Become Jove's dotage, and be Queen of heaven. 

Clor. My Lord Pyrontus, I return you thanks, 
And hope th' immortal gods will recompense 
This kindness with an happiness transcending 
Whatever yet you could desire ! 

Ovid. May heaven 

Propitiously smile on you with all those 
Bright ties that do enlighten night and day ! 

Arm. I did not think this city could have shown 
A multitude so gallant of both sexes. 

Bas. They come, I thank them, to grace our 
nuptials. 

Fhyl. They come, no doubt, to see and to be seen. 

Enter Mauullus, Dacus, Cypassis, Spinella. 

Mar. Hymen be praised, we are come in time ! 

Cyp. Yenus, bless mine eyes, what a fine show is 
here ! 

Spin. Indeed, Captain Dacus, you have endeared 
me much ; 
We are beholding to your lusty shoulders, 
That made a pretty lane through all the crowd. 

Dae. My best of strength shall evermore attend 
To do you service. 

Mar. Here let us keep together ; 

This is the best room that is left. Pray tell me, 
How do you like the bride % Do not her eyes 
Dart subtle rays, such as may kindle fires 
Within the breasts of all mankind 1 

Spin. I do not know how some may love heart- 
burning. 

Cyp. It is a pretty lady, but I have seen 
Some faces that have seemed as well. 



OVID. 225 

Mar. Oh ! envy, Madam Cypassis ! Where, beseech 
you] 

Dae. I hope Spinella would be loth enough 
T-o change with her. 

Spin. I am not yet a-weary 

Of mine own. 

Bas. It doth grow late, and time they did begin. 

Ovid. They only waited your commands. 

Mar. That's Publius Ovidius Naso, the chief poet 
Not only of Eome, but all the mighty empire. 

Cyp. I know him well enough, and was acquainted 
Many years with him ere I saw this country. 

Ovid. May music bring 
Some deities from Olympus' top, to grace 
This night's solemnities ! 

The Mask. 

The Masquers all attired according to the fancies of the 
ancient poets. 

After a flourish of loud music, enter Hymen, Cupid, 
and Venus, singing. 

Ven. I smil'd with eyes that darted rays 

Of sweet desire on either's face. 
Cup. And I such shafts did put in ure* 

As only they themselves could cure. 
Hym. And I, love's best physician, quick found 

Each other's hand, might heal each other's 
wound. 
Ven. May they dissolve in love, yet prove 

No diminution by their love. 
Cup. May they their fears and pain requite, 

And spend, in such revenge, this night. 
Hym. Whate'er they do, they may with ardent 
zeal, 

For they have licence under my great seal. 

*Use. 
P 



226 ovid. 



Enter Mercury. 



Mer. Jove hath commanded me to let you know 
You shall not want a grace that heaven can show ; 
By virtue, therefore, of my sacred wand, 
Juno and Pallas hither I command, 
That they, with Venus, may again contest 
To whom belongs the golden apple best. 
And Paris, by my caduceus' power, 
I charge to come from thy Elysium bower. 
Now let thy doom meet the just will of Jove, 
And thou shalt feast with deities above — 
Forego thy solitary shades, and sit 
A judge upon Olympus for thy wit. 

Enter Juno and Pallas. 

Pal. Wherefore are we thus summoned to appear 
To human view and to these mortals here ? 

Jun. I hope Jove now will not disturb our reign, 
And fall in love with womankind again. 

Pal. Surely long since, Queen of the deities, 
He did abandon terrene vanities. 

Jun. Daughter ! he swore, by Dis, to me himself, 
He would for ever leave all amorous stealth ; 
For Juno cannot but suspect the worse, 
He once so long continued such a course. 

Pal. Pallas hath often blush'd to hear Mars tell, 
Following his father's steps he did but well; 
My brother was to blame. 

Jun. Alas, my son 

Gloried to imitate what Jove had done ! 
Your sister Venus was a handsome child. 

Pal. And Mars, when he was young, was very 
wild. 

Mer. Saturnia, needless I do know your fears ; 
Had Jove meant so, he'd not have met you here. 
Paris is slow in his approach ; sure some 
Fine dreams have fix'd him in Elysium. 
Again I must command him to appear. 



OVID. 227 

Enter Paris. 

Par. You need not, Maia's son, for I am here. 
I had not made such s4ay, but was in talk 
With my fair Queen in a delicious walk, 
Where Agamemnon and the Spartan king, 
And all those many Princes they did bring 
To fight for the revenge of that fam'd rape, 
Did laugh at our discourse, not envy at. 
Thrice happy are those shades, where none do hear 
Those passions that so tyrannize it here. 
The Grecian chieftains have a thousand times 
Curs'd their own rage that cross'd us in our crimes ; 
For when their wiser souls were loosened from 
Their bodies, forced unto Elysium 
By violent deaths, and clearly understood 
Those follies they had sealed with their blood, 
Amazement seiz'd upon them all. Our Troy, 
Which that so fatal quarrel did destroy, 
Had flourished still in pomp — all they and we 
Had liv'd in peace and in felicity, 
And died in our own beds, had they been bless'd 
T' have had those thoughts wherewith th' are now 

possess'd. 
We are not jealous in those plains of bliss : 
They for fruition care not, there, that kiss. 
Helen of Greece and I, without despite 
To Menelaus' self, take what delight 
Pleaseth us there the most. Every one there 
Slights those things most they doted upon here. 
Our bodies being compos'd of elements, 
Incline mankind to seek to please the sense ; 
But there our spirits, being unconfin'd, 
Strive at the satisfaction of the mind. 
Though souls embrace, they organs want and places 
To raise a jealousy at their embraces ; 
We at our old amours do often laugh. 

Mer. Then you was in discourse, which I broke off? 

Par. No matter, Mercury, 'tis fit I pay 
My duty unto Jove, and him obey. 



228 OVID. 

What, therefore, is his will, that I may soon 
Submit to his inevitable doom 1 

Mer. You must again an umpire be, and tell, 
In beauty, which of these doth.most excel. 

Par. My judgment I have given once, and why 
Should that again to my discussion lye 1 ? 

Mer. 'Tis Jove's decree, and he, if you refrain, 
Will make you subject unto Pluto's reign, — 
From the Elysium plains remove you quite, 
And cast you into an eternal night ; 
Instead of Helen's voice, where evermore 
You shall hear Cerberus' bark, Cocytus' roar ; 
And dreadful Phlegethon, with horrid noise, 
Torment your ears as darkness shall your eyes. 

Par. I must submit. 

Mer. Here, take this golden ball, 

And give't to her that's handsom'st of them all. 

Par. I shall, in my opinion, doom aright, 
But wish that Jove had chose some other wight. 
But the last time these goddesses employed 
Me in this kind, it was on sacred Ide ; 
Why therefore here, in so remote a town, 
And countries so far distant from mine own 1 

Mer. Oast but your eyes about this crowded place, 
And you may judge it is to do a grace 
To some in this fair company. 

Hym. To-day, 

That generous youthful pair became my prey. 

Cup. But they had never been your captives bound, 
If I had not compelled them by a wound. 

Mer. Jupiter, to do honour to this night, 
Hath summoned these t' appear to human sight, 
And hath commanded you, before this throng, 
To give that apple where 't doth most belong. 
Be well advised, after exact survey, 
How you dispose the golden fruit away. 

Par. Prime goddesses of the Olympic court, 
That Paris grace again with your resort, 
I on my knees beg leave, that what I do 
For one may not offend the other two ; 



OVID. 229 

Because our poets have profess'd that we 
Have been afflicted for my first decree, 
For thence two of you did our foes become, 
And hastened on the sack of Ilium. 
I must obey imperious Jove's command. 

Ven. And we to thy arbitrament will stand. 

Juno. I do protest, by all my rule above, 
I'll not be angry, howsoe'er it prove. 

Pal. And, Priam's son, I will be nothing stirr'd, 
Or discontent, if others be preferr'd. 

Par. Having implor'd your mercies, now I fall 
To look to whom belongs the golden ball. 
Juno hath sweet black eyes, Pallas fine hair, 
Venus is just proportion' d, wondrous fair. 
As I have done before, again I must — 
Venus, the ball's thine, and my judgment just. 

\_G-ives it to her. 

Juno. To tax thy doom were but a needless shift. 

Pal. Nor do we envy her the pretty gift. 

Ven. To show there is no falling out, let's all 
Fall in, and dance, before this pair, a ball. 

Juno. You and I, Trojan prince, will lead the sport 
You have been famous for in Priam's court. 

Par. Supremest goddess, you a grace confer 
Too high upon your humble honourer. 

Juno. Hymen, Cupid, and Maia's son, advance ! 
Let's show these mortals an Olympic dance. 

All the Maskers dance. 

After a flourish of solemn loud music, enter Jupiter. 

Mer. The king of gods and men ! Hail, thund'ring 

Jove ! 
Pal. Why hath my father left his throne above % 
Jup. Perceiving Venus and her wanton son, 
To do some service, were by Hymen won, 
From my star-paved court, and looking down 
Upon the world, and, in it, on this town, 
I soon espied the business ; therefore, straight 
Summon'd you both to meet, this nuptial night, 



230 ovid. 

My daughter Venus, here that we might do 
A grace divine unto these happy two. 
How Paris hath bestowed the ball I've seen ; 
But give it me again, you amorous Queen 
Of Cyprus, it hereafter must not be 
A trophy to the Paphian deity. 

Veil. Great Jupiter, I yield to thy command. 

Jup. And I thus give it t' a more beauteous hand. 

[Gives it Clorina. 
Here may you nourish long in bliss ! and when 
You weary grow of the abodes of men, 
I'll fix you both, t' amaze all human eyes, 
A glorious constellation in the skies. 
Pallas and Venus do not take offence, 
For she is a superior excellence. 
And frown not, Juno ; I no more will make 
Converse with mortals for thy quiet's sake. 
Hadst thou thus given the golden ball, I had 

[Speaks to Paris. 
Made thee companion unto Ganymede. 
Take hands, and dance, whilst our attentive ears 
Do guide our feet to music of the spheres. 

They dance the second dance. 

A Song. 

Hym. Blest and best pair, make haste to bed, 

The bride still owes her maidenhead. 
Cup. There you can only find a balm, 

The fest'ring of my darts to calm. 
Ven. And youth and beauty may delight 

In all joys of a nuptial night. 
Chorus. There when you shall be left alone, and 
kiss, 
You need not envy to the gods their bliss. 

Jup. 'Tis time we leave these to a new delight, 
And therefore Jove himself doth bid good-night. 

[Exeunt Maskers. 



ovid. 231 

Bas. Let us to bed, my dear ; I long to lose 
Myself in thy embraces. Gentle Ovid, 
The bright Clorina and myself shall owe 
All power we have to serve you to the utmost ; 
And may propitious heaven incline great Csesar 
To look with gracious eyes on your misfortunes ! 

Ovid. You both vouchsafe too much of honour to 
me 
If you forgive the rudeness of my muse. 

Pyr. I find myself extremely ill o' th' sudden, 
And must not be so barbarous t' interrupt 
With any sign of sickness the felicities 
Of this bless'd company. Good-night to all ! 
Farewell, my lord ! the happiest of mankind. 
Clorina, too, good-night — you most unkind ! 

[Exeunt Bassanes, Ovid, Clorina, Armelina. 

Mar. Captain, I do commit to your conduct 
Madam Cypassis and her pretty daughter. 
I must go help the groom to bed, and see 
The bride to taste her last virginity-posset. 

[Exit Marullus. 

Dae. I shall be careful of my charge. Spinella, 
I had rather have spent my time in bed with thee 
Than have been at this masque. 

Spin. So had not I with you. 

Dae. I know you jest, my little rogue. 

Cyp. Juno was of a demure look, and had a grave 
behaviour. 

Dae. Pallas had a smart cast with her eyes : 
I warrant you she beat 
Her husband, if she were ever married. 

Spin. Venus, indeed, was the handsom'st of them 
all. 

Dae. But you are handsomer than she, my pretty 
one. 

[Exeunt Dacus, Cypassis, Spinella. 

Phyl. 'Tis very late, and time to hasten home. 
How is it with my noble Lord Pyrontus 1 

Pyr. I am undone, my Phylocles, for ever, 
And have too tamely yielded to this match. 



232 ovid. 

I should have challenged my friend Bassanes, 
If he would not have given up his interest, 
And by his fall rais'd up myself some hope, 
Or lost her bravely with my life together. 

Phyl. My lord, for heaven's sake cast aside such 
thoughts, 
And to your aid call generous patience ! 

Pyr. The coward's virtue ! 0, the multitude 
Of those grand joys Bassanes is possess'd of 
By this conjugal knot ! And 0, the myriads 
Of miseries my poor life is to wade through 
By her severe command ! Were I the mighty 
Tiberius, and o'er the conquer'd world 
Bore sovereignty, the Empire I should slight, 
And give 't Bassanes for his room to-night. 

[Exeunt ambo. 



Act ii. — Scene i. 

Enter Captain Hannibal, Cacala, Caralinda, and 

Floretta. 

Han. From Ostia we have had a voyage hither 
So fraught with storms and tempests, that I wonder 
The sea-gods 

Cac. The sea-monsters call them, rather. 

Han. Were not all tired with using so much rage 
On us ; and yet you, beauteous Caralinda, 
Seemed fearless of the furies of the ocean, 
Dreadless of thunder and lightning, whilst my man, 

This rascal Cacala, did nothing but s 

And spew, and pray, when there was such a noise, 
Betwixt the mariners' voices and the elements, 
That Neptune could not hear the timorous villain. 

Cac. Sir, I did love you well — you have been 
bountiful 
On all occasions to me, I else should never 
Have left my native country, pleasant Italy, 
T' have undergone a voluntary exile. 



ovid. 233 

But had I ever dreamt on such a passage, 
Such thunders, whirlwinds, and such horrible tem- 
pests, 
I would have taken leave to stay in Eome. 

Han. Although Floretta sometimes wept for fear, 
She did not bawl and whine like thee. 

Cac. No matter ; 
She does not know how precious a thing life is. 

Flor. Surely I do ; but well enough imagin'd 
That such ungovern'd outcries might disturb 
The company, yet not incline the gods 
The sooner to deliver us from drowning. 

Car. In truth, Cacala, your fear was oftentimes 
So full of noise the mariners could not hear 
Their own voices to attend their necessaries ; 
But you, perhaps, are valianter at land ] 

Han. He's everywhere a coward, Caralinda ! 

Cac. I would confute you, sir, with all my heart, 
If you and Mistress Floretta would consent to 't. 
Were I in bed with her, I'd prove myself 
As valiant as the proudest captain living ! 

Han. How, now, you saucy rogue 1 

Flor. He talks most wickedly. 

Cac. I had rather do. 

Flor. You must go look a mate, then. 

Car. "Where do you mean to lie in Tomos, Captain ? 
Good lodgings here, I think, are somewhat rare. 

Han. As soon as we came to town I despatch'd 
Cacala 
T' inquire out one Madam Cypassis, a gentlewoman 
Of my acquaintance in my very youth. She was 

servant 
Once unto the Princess Julia. 

Car. You rather should say t' Ovid's fam'd Corinna. 

Han. By your fair leave, I know I speak a truth ; 
And were not Ovid timorous, he'd confess 
He Julia veil'd under Corinna's name. 
Cacala hath taken me lodgings at Cypassis', 
Where you may hear of your humble servant, Han- 
nibal. 



234 ovid. 

Car. And does Floretta lie there also 1 

Han. Yes, marry ; 

Venus defend else ! 

Car. Then you do resolve, 

It seems, to make a wedding on 't 1 

Han. By no means, madam ; neither pretty 
Floretta 
Nor I are yet such fools to slight our liberties. 
Whilst we like one another we'll keep together, 
And when we grow a-weary we may part ; 
The world hath other men and women enough, 
And we are both of us yet ignorant 
How soon we may affect variety. 

Car. But fear ye not the gods 1 Are they well 
pleas'd, 
Think you, with such a life 1 

Cac. My captain ne'er 

Feared anything. And for Mistress Floretta, 
What man could do to her she never dreaded ; 
But how her courage stands towards the gods, 
I cannot say. 

Flor. You say too much, Cacala, and must learn 
manners, 
Or I must pray the Captain to bestow 
A cudgel on you. 

Cac. Sure his valour scorns 

Such mean employment ; he disdains to touch 
A weapon that's beneath a sword or poniard. 
My noble captain ever was accustom'd 
To give me leave to jest. 

Han. But you must know 

Your distance to Floretta. 

Cac. I know it but too well, 

And always am more distant than I would be. 

Car. But, Captain, I'd advise you both to marry ; 
It is a life that is more honourable. 

Cac. You are deceived, Madam Caralinda ; 
Our Eoman captains think there is more honour 
In keeping wenches than in marriage. 

Han. Out upon wedlock ! I had rather hear 



ovid. 235 

Alarms at midnight than the multitude 
To bawl Thalassis at a nuptials ! 

Car. Y' are a mad captain, Hannibal ! 

Han. I acknowledge it, 

And ne'er had else been banish'd into Pontus. 
But whereabouts in this town, Caralinda, 
Do you intend to make abode % 

Car. At Publius Ovidius Naso's. 
I wrote to him from Eome t' entreat that courtesy, 
And he returned me thither word by letter 
I should be welcome. I have sent my servants 
Thither to prepare for me, and to beg 
His company here, that he may be guide 
Unto his house. 

Han. Were Ovid in his youth, 

He would be glad of such a purchase, lady ; 
Y' are of a tempting beauty. He had fam'd you 
Equal unto his so renowned Corinna, 
Had he been then acquainted with your excellences. 

Car. You shame me, Captain Hannibal. I am 
So conscious of my own deformities, 
That I shall, all I may, shun public view. 
Besides, I know the noble poet hath 
Subdued his passions, and is now become 
As rigid in his behaviour as the gravest 
Of all the ancient philosophers. 

Cac. These women such discourse affect, as if 
They were pure vestal nuns ; but they that do 
Give credit to them are of a belief 
That is not in my creed. 

Car. You must have leave 

To talk. Know likewise, Captain ! 
Enjoy'd the generous Ovid his prime youth, 
And flourish'd again in his own house 
Adjoining unto our triumphant capital, 
I should choose to live with him. I do prize him 
As the supreme wit of the Empire, 
Whose conversation ever was admired. 
Besides, I dare presume on my own temper, 
I fear not the temptations of all mankind ; 



236 OVID. 

And such averseness have to all that sex, 
That here, in presence of the immortal gods, 
I vow, in that kind, never man shall touch me ! 

Cac. For all your confidence in your own chastity, — 
I speak it with a reverence to your merit, — 
Beware of the old game, and of the consequence, 
Known commonly by the name of a great belly. 

Car. My life, through all my actions, shall vindicate 
My reputation spotless ! 

Han. Your beauties and unequall'd qualities are 
Too potent charms for frail mankind to know, 
And not be conquer'd by so many wonders. 

Cac. Besides, her clothes would set one's teeth on 
edge. 

Flor. On shipboard she went in an homelier habit. 

Car. The meanest clothes will serve at sea for 
women. 
Captains in Tyrian-dy'd habiliments, 
And with their divers-coloured plumes should flourish, 
At all times, in all places, to beget 
Awe and respect from those they do converse with. 

Han. Fair Caralinda, you speak oracles ! 
The hearts of all the Getes* here must do homage 
To your unparallel'd perfection ! 
They will not only own you for most beautiful, 
But the chief female gallant of the province ! 

Enter Ovid. 

Car. Your praises so transcend, they make me 
blush. 

Ovid. Welcome, my sweetest cousin Caralinda ! 
May all the gods of seas and winds be prais'd 
For your arrival in this country safely ! 

Car. Thanks, generous Ovid ; I rejoice to see 
The wonder of the Eoman Empire living ! 

Ovid. Oh, spare to overvalue so your servant, 
A serious adorer of your virtues ! 

* Getes, sing. ; Getee, plu. A people on the banks of the 
Euxine Sea, described by Ovid as a savage and warlike nation. 
—Ovid de Ponto Tristia, 5, c. 1. 7 ; v. iii. c. 1. 12 v. 10. 



ovid. 237 

Admire only you have found me breathing, 
After so many years here in exilement. 

Han. Madam, because we see you in that company 
We know you have an honour for, and who will 
Conduct you to your lodgings, we will press 
No further on your privacies, but take 
Our leave for this time. May both gods and men 
Bear hatred to Tiberius until he 
Repeal the gentle Ovid ! When we next 
Do meet we will converse at large. May Jove, 
Juno, Pallas, and the whole court of deities, 
Be evermore auspicious to you both ! 

Cac. Also to me, master, and to Floretta, 
Whate'er we do, I'd have the gods be merciful ! 

[Exeunt Hannibal, Floretta, Cacala. 

Car. I need not hope I shall be safe, but be secure 
I shall be so, while I continue in 
Your house. 

Ovid. You, madam, to yourself shall promise 
All privacy you can desire ; you are 
As secret as you were not in the world. 
Although your native city you inhabit, 
Your name shall not escape my lips. But why, 
If without an offence I may demand it, 
Affect you such concealment now, especially 
When all your friends would be so proud to see you, 
And in this time of public joy ? 

Car. Hereafter, 

At better leisure, I'll acquaint you with 
My very soul in all particulars. 

Ovid. I will await your time. But when you left 
The world's great head, happy and flourishing Rome, 
How was Tiberius moved by the entreaties 
Of my dear wife, and some few real friends 
That my repeal solicited ? 

Car. Your virtuous wife and many constant friends 
Have not evaded any opportunity 
In your behalf ; and, though they have not yet 
Effected their desires in that concern, 
They do not despair of prosperous success. 



238 ovid. 

Ovid. I have two powerful enemies, I believe, 
And such who block up, with their imputations, 
All ways of mercy; and yet they are men 
I cannot accuse myself for ever injuring* 

Car. You always were too noble to do wrongs. 

Ovid. Even he that hath cruelty to heart 
To tempt the wife of a poor banish'd man, 
Amidst her sighs and tears for my misfortunes, 
Makes use of all the mighty interest 
He hath with Caesar still to fix me here ! 
Pardon my passion, ye just gods, if I 
Do wish one day you will requite the mischiefs 
Of Cornificius ! * 

Car. Your wife could make good mirth with his 
affection, 
Were not her heart so sad for your long banishment. 

Ovid. Some of my griefs I have flung on him, under 
The counterfeit name of Ibis. 

Car. Those curses he richly deserves. Our sacred 
Empress, the sweet-conditioned Julia, 
Hath from the island Trimerus,f — where she 
Hath liv'd confin'd about these twenty years, — 
Wrote to him oft in your behalf ; but she, 
Although she brought to him the world in dowry, 
Could not prevail. 

Ovid. She grac'd too much an exile ! 

Car. But had much reason to solicit throughly, 
She being believ'd to be the fair Corinna, 
Whom in your poems you have celebrated. 

Ovid. I pray you, think not so; you wrong her 
virtues, 
Of which I only was a true adorer ! 

* A poet and general of the Augustine age. His compositions 
were much valued for their ease and eloquence, but nothing 
remains of them except a few letters preserved amongst the 
epistles of his friend Cicero. He had a sister Cornificia, who 
is said to have been gifted with a poetical genius. 

f On the coast of Campania, where Julia, daughter of Augustus, 
notorious for her immorality, was starved to death by order of 
Tiberius, anno 14. The cause of Ovid's banishment has been 
ascribed to his having come to the knowledge of the incestuous 
intercouse between this lady and her father. 



OVID. 239 

Car. Though you deny it ne'er so much, a many, 
And of the nobler sort, believe it otherwise. 
Droop not, best of poets, but courage ! 

Ovid. Alas ! 

My hopes sunk, with Augustus, to the grave, 
And here my aged bones must find an urn ! 
Will you not see the bridal house, although 
In this disguise, and sure to be unknown ? 

Car. I all those inclinations must suppress ; 
It is the will of Heaven, and not mine own. 
'Tis time we walk ! 

Ovid. I'm ready to attend you. [Exeunt. 



Scene ii. 
Enter Pyrontus, solus. 

Pyr. This sweet and solitary grove, adjoining 
To our city's walls, I have made choice to vent 
My sorrows in : — this place, that many times 
Clorina's smiling eyes have graced more 
Than Phoebus with his beams could ever do. 
Happy you trees, whose roots received vigour 
From the life-giving virtue of her looks ! 
And you, sweet birds, that choose this shady place 
To warble forth your various notes, were blest 
To learn new airs from bright Clorina's voice ! 
And all those beasts are fortunate, that here 
Enjoy the cool shades and the crystal springs, — 
The waters and the grass receiving virtue, 
From her rich presence, towards their ease and 

nourishment. 
Even all the inhabitants of Tomos choose 
This place to recreate their minds withal. 
Pan, Faunus, Satyrs, and the Dryades 
Have not afforded me so good success. 
Wherefore, alas ! thus do I vainly tax 
The rural gods 1 Clorina is my foe, 
Else I had been as happy as Bassanes, 
Who is the most blest man of all the Empire, 



240 ovid. 

And that unparallel'd beauty doth enjoy 

Whose loss I must perpetually lament, — 

Whose loss must sit so near unto my soul, 

The world will want a cure to make me whole. [Exit. 

Enter Cypassis. 

Cyp. Thanks to these trees' auspicious shades, 
whereby 
I, undiscover'd, have been made partaker 
Of Lord Pyrontus' love unto the bride ! 
I will observe, with all the curious search 
I may, what progress he intends to make, 
And hope I shall raise motives to withdraw 
Bassanes from the dotage on his wife, 
And fix his heart again upon Spinella. 

Enter Pyrontus and Phylocles. 

Phyl. I have been searching for you long ! 

Cyp. 'Tis best I do retire, where, unperceiv'd, 
I their discourse may overhear. [Aside. 

Phyl. You should not 

Give such a liberty to your melancholy, 
Nor take delight in solitary walks. 
My Lord Pyrontus, in your early youth 
You were instructed by the ablest masters 
That famous Athens or triumphant Eome 
Could glory in, in all the principles 
Of grave philosophy. Eeflect upon them, 
And raise yourself thence strength to conquer these 
Unruly passions. 

Pyr. My dear Phylocles, 

'Tis very easy for a man to give 
That counsel to his friend he could not follow 
Himself were he in his condition. 
I want a power to perform 't. The world 
Cannot afford me means. I must enjoy 
Clorina, or I utterly am lost ; 
And therefore, though Bassanes is my friend, 
My amity cannot enjoin me silence : 
I must pursue my suit, and will. 



ovid. 241 

Phyl Take heed ; 

You then will run a course against all virtue — 
Offend the sacred deities, whom we 
Are bound, by strictest obligations, 
To observe in all they have commanded us. 

Pyr. But they are merciful, and will forgive. 

Phyl. But 'tis inglorious to commit a crime 
Out of a presumption of a pardon ; and 
Your breach of friendship — all mankind will censure, 
An act degenerating from true nobility. 

Pyr. These morals, Phylocles, are cast away 
On me, who am so overwhelm'd in love 
I have not reason left to practise them. 

Phyl. But you will have sufficient, if you would 
Take up a resolution to withstand 
This dangerous passion. 

Pyr. 'Tis in vain to preach 

These things to me. I must enjoy Clorina, 
Or leave you, friend, for ever — I shall die ! 

Phyl. How this untoward love destroys your 
sense ! 

Pyr. There is not oratory enough on earth 
To win me from the pursuit of my love : 
One way or other I must get Clorina, 
And to invent a means to compass her 
Shall be my only study ; and if I prove 
So fortunate as to accomplish that, 
I shall account myself a favourite 
The most esteemed of by the gods ! 

Phyl. Fiends, rather ! 

Pyr. Then I shall find there is a fate attends 
On lovers, — harsh beginnings, happy ends. 

[Exit Pyrontus. 

Phyl. I will not give him over thus, but follow 
him; 
And though I have small hopes I shall prevail, 
Yet I, in friendship, am obliged to do 
My best to stop him in this vicious course. 
brave Pyrontus ! how hath impious love 
Abus'd thy reason with this mighty dotage ! 
Q 



242 ovid. 

He that hath been the glory of this province 
Will make himself, this way, the shame and scandal ! 

[Exit Phylocles. 

Cypassis discloseth herself. 

Cyp. Is he so hotly set that none beside 
The bride can satisfy his luxury 1 
This shall Bassanes know. Now I will work, 
With all the treacherous art I'm mistress of, 
To raise a discord in their marriage. She 
Is made of flesh and blood, and may prove false ! 
Pyrontus is resolved to court her strongly, — 
A gallant gentleman, handsome as any, 
Perfect in amorous compliments, no doubt. 
I wonder how he miss'd her if he ever 
Made it his endeavour to obtain her favour. 
I wish him good success. May this Clorina 
Fall into his embraces ! Then my girl 
Spinella, it is likely, may arise 
Into her former favour with Bassanes. 
He's rich and bountiful, and such are welcome 
Unto young women ; who will lose no time, 
And love to live in flourish of the fashion. 

Enter Bassanes. 

Bas. I like this marriage well, for now I lead 
My life in favour of our best of gods ! 
I have liv'd loosely long enough, and paid 
My services to Venus and wild Priapus ! 
Juno will now befriend me, sure, and Hymen 
Eain blessings on my head and family. 

Cyp. Good day, my Lord Bassanes ! What ! alone 1 
Can you so soon deprive yourself of the 
Fair sunshine of your bright Clorina's eyes 1 — 
Find in your heart to be out of her company 1 

Bas. I must not be a shadow to my wife, 
Nor she to me. We must not evermore 
Follow each other ; so our loves might prove 
Troublesome to ourselves. But say, Cypassis, 



ovid. 243 

"What business brought you hither 1 Is 't for health's 

sake 
That you are come to walk, and take the air ? 
Or out of hope to meet me here, to tell me 
Fictitious stories of Spinella's love 
Tome? 

Cyp. I had not any such intention. 
Affection to the groves, and a desire 
To exercise myself a while in walking, 
Did bring me hither. But I've lost my labour, 
And, as you came, was a-returning home. 

Bas. This is a riddle. Who could hinder you from 
walking 1 

Cyp. My own curiosity. 
I have been list'ning to the saddest speech 
That ever yet did pass a lover's lips. 

Bas. Prithee, Cypassis, who had the ill fortune 
To vent his sorrows in thy hearing 1 

Cyp. A friend 

Of yours, but 'tis no matter who ; you are 
In a condition of such happiness, 
That it would be an incivility in me 
To cause the least sad thoughts in you. Continue 
In mirth and jollity ; and so, farewell ! 

Bas. I pray thee, stay awhile ! I must confess 
I have a curiosity to know 
Who this is that you call a friend of mine, 
Who can be sad now I am grown so happy ! 

Cyp. My Lord Bassanes, I must crave your pardon. 
Secrets of love, you know, should be conceal'd. 

Bas. I am no common prater. 

Cyp. For old acquaintance sake, I cannot choose 
But tell you anything you shall request. 

Bas. I thank you. How doth fair Spinella 1 I 
Should have inquired sooner of her health, 
But your discourse drew me aside from it. 

Cyp. Oh ! how you flatter me ! I easily can 
Believe you have forgotten her for ever. 

Bas. You wrong our frien dship. Happiness I wish her, 
As much as you and she can both desire. 



244 ovid. 

Cyp. I'll tell her so ; and so, again farewell ! 

Bas. Nay, tell me, ere you go, what friend of mine 
Is grown so amorous and so passionate 1 

Cyp. Since you will have me, think ! 

Bas. I cannot guess. 

Cyp. It is Pyrontus. 

Bas. It may be so ; yet he 
Never reveal'd to me he was in love. 

Cyp. At that I make no wonder. 

Bas. Whom should he 

JBe so enamour'd of? 

Cyp. Clorina's eyes 

Have beams enough a province to inflame. 

Bas. My wife? 

Cyp. The very same. 

Bas. He surely, then, will stifle 
His passion generously, and not attempt 
The wife of his approved friend ? 

Cyp. You guess amiss ; he is resolv'd to try 
Her to the utmost. He's a proper gentleman, 
And, I believe, hath a prevailing language. 
You may be civil to him, and be wary. 

Bas. It is too likely. On our marriage night 
He so abruptly did depart, he gave us 
Not leisure enough to take our leaves, — a sign 
He wanted patience to look on my joys. 

Cyp. I thought he somewhat suddenly was gone ; 
But love's a passion not to be commanded ! 

Bas. What was 't he, in your hearing, said 1 

Cyp. Alas ! 

Enough ; too much. He doth deserve our pity. 
Phylocles did surprise him, and did use 
His best persuasions to divert him from 
So vain and dangerous an affection. 

Bas. Come to particulars, my good Oypassis ; 
Conceal not from me anything : the gods 
Did guide thee hither t' overhear him. Why 
Stand you in such suspense ? 

Cyp. Take heed, my Lord Bassanes ! Oh, beware 
Of jealousy ! 'Tis an accursed fiend, 



OVID. 245 

That otherwise your quiet will molest, 
Involve you in a perpetuity 
Of hideous chimeras. Fair Clorina 
Is innocent, and of a spotless virtue ; 
She is not accessory to his fault, 
If to be beautiful be not a crime. 

Bas. I am not jealous, neither will be ever. 

Cyp. A resolution worthy your great mind, 
And worthy the respects you ought to owe 
And pay unto the virtues of your lady. 

Bas. I know her excellent body is enrich'd 
With so sublime a spirit, and so pure, 
That vice dares not approach her thoughts. Be free, 
Therefore, and tell me all thou know'st. 

Cyp. You may command me, and I will conceal 
Nothing from you. 

Bas. Good old Cypassis ! thanks. [Exeunt ambo. 



Scene hi. 
Enter Pyrontus and Clorina. 

Clor. For shame, Pyrontus ! Cease to prosecute 
A suit so much beneath your honour, and 
So prejudicial to my reputation ! 

Pyr. What a misery, 
To be condemned to an eternal penury, 
And be forbidden to complain ! Fair, cruel 
Clorina, do not so insult ! Although 
I am most wretched, it's in your power to make me 
Happy, when you shall please to be but kind. 

Clor. I am not of a savage nature, neither 
Ever rejoic'd at anybody's grief ; 
I wish you all content, and ever did 
A wife superior unto me in all things. 
Sink not beneath this passion of your love ; 
You undervalued evermore your merits 
To think of me in that way. 

Pyr. You abuse 



246 ovid. 

The truest affection amorous heart did ever 
Pay to his mistress, if you think I can 
Efface your image in my soul. The centre 
Of this vast globe we breathe on is not faster 
Fix'd than your beauties here ; here, in my bosom, 
They sit triumphant. Etna in its torn entrails 
Doth nourish lesser flames than burn me daily, 
And yet you have no pity for my sufferings. 

Clor. Alas ! what would you have me make myself % 
A beast of such an horrid name, I tremble 
But to think of it 1 All the gods forbid ! 
Would you have her whom you have cast away 
Some kindness on become an whore % My heart 
Trembles to think upon % and the swift lightning 
Of blushes flies into my cheeks. Methinks 
My tongue doth burn like fire within my mouth 
Since it did mention so abhorr'd a name. 

Pyr. Will you, then, never think me worth your 
mercy 1 
Shall the vain terrors of an empty name 
Condemn me to a languishing life for ever 1 

Clor. You gods are witnesses, that know my 
thoughts, 
I would not, by the wreck of chastity, 
And proving to my marriage false, redeem 
Myself from the most cruel death that tyrant 
Did ever invent for his most hated enemy ! 

Pyr. More merciless than worst of all those tyrants, 
Can you refuse a courtesy to me 
Which my assiduous services may plead for % 
And such an one as can be never known, 
Neither impoverish you in the least degree 1 
Reflect upon my misery, sweet Clorina, 
And imitate the gods in mercy. 

Clor. Eather the fiends, if I should be so wicked. 
The Lord Pyrontus, whom I heretofore 
Did look upon as a most noble person, 
Accomplish'd with the virtues, hath declared 
Or counterfeited himself an atheist, to 
Allure Clorina from her purity. 



ovid. 247 

The gods see everything; nature nor art 

Can anything conceal from them. Thoughts which 

Did never take the air in words, to them 

Discovered lye ; and is it not far worse 

To have the gods to see our crimes than men 1 

Could I prove guilty of so foul a fault, 

I should impoverish myself to nothing, — 

A bankrupt be in honour ; which, who wants, 

Is a companion fit for such wild people, 

As never heard the name of virtue. Eiches 

Are fortune's trifles, neither altogether 

To be despis'd or doted on ; but, well us'd, 

Poor virtue is most rich. Virtue itself 

Was, by the ancients, held the greatest wealth. 

Pyr. In your discourse you are too much a stoic : 
Young ladies' hearts should not so utterly 
Be void of all compassion. 

Clor. I must leave you. 

Pyr. Not without hope of comfort, I beseech you 1 
Let me but taste of those sweet delicacies 
You cloy Bassanes with, if it be possible 
He can be satiated with such delights ! 

Clor. I trespass on my modesty to hear you. [Exit. 

Pyr. In a condition she so sad hath left me, 
Joy is become an exile from my heart. 
To love and not be lov'd is such a curse, 
Jove, on his foes, cannot inflict a worse. [Exit. 



Act hi. — Scene i. 
Enter Ovid and Caralinda. 

Ovid. Trapullus is a great astrologer, 
I' th' mathematics skilful to perfection. 
For his profounder knowledge the Chaldseans 
Submit all to him. 

Car. Therefore I have reason 

More strictly to observe th' advice he gave me, 



248 ovid. 

And wait for the accomplishment of the fortune 
Which he foretold me. 

Ovid. But, fair Caralinda, 

I would not have you either be too scrupulous 
Or negligent. The skill which they pretend to 
Hath but foundation upon probabilities : 
The glorious planets may incline, but force not. 
We have a liberty within ourselves : 
Our wills are free, nor slaves unto the stars. 

Car. Though I believe you, I am so superstitious 
I shall expect the accomplishment of his prophecy. 
Further discourse of it I shall forbear now, 
And choose a worthier subject for our talk. 
Tell me, dear Ovid, therefore, how the fair 
Bride's fairer sister doth enjoy her health. 
I left her, when I went to travel, like 
Illustrious Phoebus rising in the spring, 
Without a cloud about his temples, promising 
A bright day to the world. I left her in 
Her early youth, but with so growing a beauty, 
That surely now 'tis able to work wonders. 

Ovid. Indeed she is a miracle of perfection ; 
Nature hath prodigally bestowed upon her 
All her rich gifts. She is so fine a virgin, 
That I should wrong her to describe her farther. 
Health dares not be so rude as to forsake her, 
Nor sickness so uncivil to approach her. 

Car. You have delivered her to my amazement ; 
But I did always look that she would prove 
The glory of this province for her beauty. 

Ovid. But Armelina hath besides a soul, 
Replenish' d so with goodness and all virtue, 
That, were it lodged in any other body, 
It would be lock'd up in a cabinet 
Too mean for such a precious jewel ! 

Car. Ovid, 

She is oblig'd to you for the rich character 
You have bestow'd upon her ! 

Ovid. You mistake me; 

I cannot speak her to her merit. You 



ovid. 249 

Will think, when you shall see her, I have injur'd her; 
Her merits do so much exceed all language. 

Car. We two have from our childhood had a friend- 
ship, 
And she will grace me to continue it, 
If she be such an one as you have spoke her. 

Ovid. Ah, Caralinda ! I am grown too old 
To be a flatterer. 

Enter Armelina. 

Here she comes, and I 
Appeal to your own eyes to be my witness ! 
You grace me, Armelina, by this visit. 
You seem a deity, and bring a comfort 
To any place you honour with your presence. 

Arm. Duty obliges me to wait upon 
A person so renowned as Ovid is, — 
One banished from his friends and native country, 
And in his age confined to our poor city. 

Ovid. You have a charity equal to your beauty. 
This lady is my cousin, born at Sulmo,* 
The place of my nativity. You will honour me 
To favour her with your acquaintance, and, 
As you hereafter shall approve of her, 
With your fair friendship too. 

Arm. The generous Ovid 

New obligations lays upon me daily. 

Ovid. My kinswoman is your servant. Caralinda ! 
This lady is the excellent Armelina 
We were discoursing of, and I commending, — 
For who does otherwise that speaks of her 
Doth sin against the greatest truth on earth, — 
As she came in. 

Arm. Madam ! I kiss your hand, and am ambitious 
Of your acquaintance and affection. 
So excellent a kinswoman of Ovid's 
Must find my best respects and truest love. 

* Now Sulmona, an ancient town of the Peligni, ninety miles 
distant from Rome, said to have been founded by Solymus, a 
follower of iEneas. 



250 ovid. 

Car. Admirable Armelina ! you are of 
A goodness so immense, that you may cast 
Away of it on others an abundance, 
And not impoverish yourself at all ! 

Arm. I wish 

Pontus had any person in it worthy 
To be a suitor to you for your love, 
That here you might be married, and fix. 
"We would not lose such grace as you are mistress of, 
Now we have seen you once. Ovid, methinks, 
Should joy to have so great a comfort near him, 
And settled past the fear of removal. 

Car. Madam, my stay may prove much longer than 
You do imagine. But let my occasions 
Prove how they can, you, with your courtesy, 
Have won so on me, that without your leave 
I'll not return. 

Arm. You are too gracious, and have so engag'd me, 
I know not what to speak or think. 

Ovid. You saw, 

I will believe, in Eome, one Phcebianus, 
A gentleman of this country and this city 1 

Car. I saw him oft, and know him very well, 
For he was pleas'd to aiford his friendship to me. 

Ovid. When thinks he of returning] He stays 
long. 

Arm. I can imagine he is so discreet 
That he had rather live in the metropolis 
Of all the world, than in a solitude, 
Retir'd, in a manner, from the world, 
Upon the confines of the Empire here. 
And to that purpose he hath mighty reason, 
To choose himself, among the Koman ladies, 
A wife whose matchless beauty shall have power 
To fix him there for ever. 

Car. By your fair leave, 

Dear Armelina, I with confidence 
Dare say he shortly will be here. 

Arm. Why, pray you 1 

Can he escape the Roman killing beauties, 



OVID. 251 

And slight so much his own full happiness 
As to return a bachelor to Tonios, 
And here take up with an inferior woman 
To be his wife 1 He hath too much discretion 
To be found guilty of so great a weakness. 

Car. You are a stranger, it seems, to his affection — 
For he hath left his heart here. Divers times 
He hath told me he hath such a mistress here, 
That Eome and all the world doth want her equal — 
That there is neither Caesar, king, nor tetrarch 
But would elect her rather for his wife 
Than be an Emperor of the universe, 
And have all mankind loyal subjects to him. 

Ovid. Who should that beauty be ? 

Arm. This province, sure, 

Hath none of so supreme an excellency 
As he to you hath intimated. Poets 
Report that love is blind ; and if he choose 
A wife in Pontus, after he hath seen 
Those glorious ladies in Tiberius' court, 
He will too late, by his experience, find 
That he in his own choice was also blind. 

Ovid. Do you not know her name he so affects % 

Arm. He is an handsome gentleman ; and if 
He comes not back debauched with the luxuries 
Of that proud city, nor infected with 
The vices of it, he is a personage 
Of eminent virtues. Such he went from us ; 
And I shall hope he will come back untainted, 
And be an honour to his native country. 

Ovid. But still my curiosity is unsatisfied. 
What might her name be he doth celebrate 
With such encomiums % 

Car. Perhaps it might offend him if I should 
Reveal that secret. 

Ovid. Do not think it ! I 

Believe, if he were here, and I requir'd it, 
He it from me would not conceal ; and I 
Dare pass my word the Lady Armelina 
Will be as private in 't as you can wish. 



252 OVID. 

Car. Madam, I easily will believe that you 
Care not at all to hear it. 

Arm. I dare not, in modesty, be so inquisitive. 
Ladies would have their loves conceal'd. 

Ovid. Sweet cousin ! 

Dear Caralinda ! tell us who it is ! 

Car. Sweet Armelina, I must needs obey ! 
'Tis you that he affects. 

Arm. You jest with me, and he abuses me 
To make me the subject of his mirth. 

Car. I'm sure 

You are mistaken much ; he hath express'd 
Too great a love for you to be in jest. 

Arm. There may be other women of my name, 
For aught I know, in Tomos or in Pontus. 

Car. If you Clorina's sister are, 'tis you. 

Arm. You make me blush. A better choice I wish 
him. 

Car. Were all the beautiful ladies in the world 
Together, and among them he might select 
Freely which he should please, I know the vehemency 
Of his passion such, he would take you. 
And you are of an excellency so unparallel'd, 
That he would wrong his judgment if he should 
Err into any other choice. 

Arm. You compliment too much ; you flatter me. 

Ovid. You do an injury to your mighty merits ; 
Deserve the praise of all the world. 

Arm. Pray let us 

Discourse of something else. 

Ovid. Since you will have it so, 
Let us withdraw, and taste a glass 
Of Cretan wine. 

Car. Dedicate one health 

To Phoebianus, and his speedy return ! [Exeunt omnes. 



ovid. 253 

Scene ii. 
Enter Dacus, Cypassis, and Spinella. 

Dae. Now we are friends again ! 

Cyp. All very good friends. 

Dae. Spinella, too, will smile upon me? 

Spin. Laugh at you also, when you deserve it. 

Dae. My wonderful old mother ! Dear Cypassis, 
You are grown merrier of late, and it 
Becomes you well — makes you grow fat, and hold 
The relics of your beauty up together. 
If there be any woman in the world 
That doth remember the building of the Capitol, 
I dare pronounce 'tis you. I wish I had 
But as much money as you have spent in almanacs, 
Reckoning but one for a year, since you could 
Make use of them, and I should be as rich as 
A governor of a province, and have gold 
Enough to make daily high entertainments 
Of the best sweetmeats and rich Grecian wines 
For you and my Spinella, and maintain her 
In clothes beseeming one of Caesar's family. 

Cyp. Well, well, Captain Dacus ; for all you 
Make a jest at my age, you would 
Be very glad to live so long yourself. 

Spin. I think there is small reason to imagine 
He will arrive to such an antiquity ; 
His debaucheries will shorten his days. Besides, 
He is so quarrelsome, that 'tis a wonder 
That he hath liv'd till now. 

Dae. Pretty Spinella, you steer another course 
Are tame enough, as gentle as a cade,* 
And he that gives you money cannot injure you. 

Enter Hannibal, Cacala, and Floretta. 

Spin. You prate, you prate ! 
Han. Is the meat ready yet 1 

* Cade-lamb, a house-lamb ; hence applied to a pet child. 



254 ovid. 

Cac. Whether it be or no, my stomach's ready for it. 

Cyp. It is ; but we must stay for Lord Bassanes. 

Han. Will he be here, Cypassis ? 

Cyp. Yes ; and his friend Marullus. 

Han. The more the merrier, my reverent mother ! 

Cac. But the fewer the better cheer, I say. 

Dae. Jove save you, Captain Hannibal ! and Venus, 
Delicate Floretta, smile upon you always ! 

Han. Mars, Captain Dacus, be thy friend, and victory 
Sit on thy sword's point when thou go'st to battle. 

Cac. If victory be of any weight, he had better 
Carry him behind him on horseback through the field. 

Flor. You look, Spinella, very well to-day — are 
neatly attir'd. 
You meet with wealthy servants, else you could 
Not go so richly clad. 

Spin. You wear as good clothes as I ; which makes 
me conclude that 
Captain Hannibal is of a wealthy fortune. 

Flor. His sword hath been his money. 'Tis it that hath 
Purchas'd him an estate sufficient 
To live in nobler splendour than he doth ; 
Bat he's content without the noise of clients, 
And a retinue of many servants : Cacala 
Serves him for man, and me for maid. 

Dae. I wish Bassanes would appear ! 'Tis pity 
Good meat, out of a compliment, should be spoil'd. 

Spin. He is a person of his word. 

Cyp. And will 

Be suddenly here, I dare assure it. 

Cac. But how if he comes not this hour yet ? 

Cyp. We must stay for him. 

Cac. I would, then, I were a lord, and the better of 
the two; that we might go to our meat presently, and 
he come at his own leisure, and sit down accordingly. 

Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 

Dae. Long look'd for comes at last ! 
Cyp. My Lord Bassanes, welcome ! Friend Marullus, 
Y' are welcome too ! 



OVID. 



255 



Bas. You see I trouble you, Cypassis. Why 
Seems my Spinella discontent % 

Spin. Because 

She is not yours. You have forsaken me — 
I have not seen you many a day. 

Bas. I shall not hereafter be such a stranger to you. 

Mar. These wenches strange temptations are; yet 
sure, 
Clorina's beauties and the sacred knot 
Of Hymen will continue him in virtue. 

Bas. Your daughter looks exceeding well, Cypassis ! 
She's mistress of a beauty so supreme, 
It is above the rage of time or sickness. 

Cyp. .Venus be prais'd, she needs no art ! and never 
Eead Ovid's poem of the skill of painting. 
She knows not what belongs unto a fucus* — 
Her face doth ever wear its native colours. 

Spin. Mother ! the very thought of the ingredients 
Of paint would powerfully deter me from it. 
I should be sick to daub my face with ointments 
Made of the spawn of snakes, spittle of Jews, 
And mire of infants ! 

Flor. Many gentlewomen 

Of good repute, and excellent features also, 
Have not so nice a stomach. 

Cyp. I credit it ; 

And have known many, who use art themselves, 
Rail at it with so tine an impudency, 
As if they did intend to win belief 
To paint they such aversion had, as they 
Scorn'd with it to adulterate "their faces. 

Mar. You women no dissemblers are ! He that 
Can live without you is an happy man. 

Cac. In my opinion, you, Floretta, had 
Better become my wife, than thus continue 
A concubine to Captain Hannibal ! 

* Paint for the complexion, formerly much used by ladies, com- 
posed frequently of injurious mineral poisons : — 
" Fucuses for ladies ! " 

— Strode's Floating Island. 



256 OVID. 

Flor. I shall inform him of your sauciness 
If you desist not from your suit. Know, Cacala, 
I scorn to be a wife to thee ! 

Cac. No more. 

You have more cause to scorn to be a whore. [Aside. 

Flor. What mutter you 1 

Cac. No matter of importance. I conceit 
Your conversations with the Captain hath 
Inspir'd you with valour ! 

Flor. Prithee, wherefore ? 

Cac. Because you lead such an incontinent life, 
I think you do not fear the gods ! 

Flor. Ha' done, 

Or I will make you fear my Hannibal's anger ! 

Cyp. Our meat stays on us. 

Bas. Mother, lead the way ! 

Give me your hand, Spinella ! 

Spin. And my heart ! 

[Exeunt. 

Dae. I fear Bassanes will renew his love. 
Could I win her affection, I would marry her, 
And take her to Rome out of his reach. She is 
Cypassis' only child, and they are rich. 
She may turn honest after she's a wife ; 
However, money makes an happy life. [Exit. 



Scene hi. 

Enter Armelina, sola. 

Arm. Ovid's fair cousin, Caralinda, hath 
Inspir'd a spirit of joy into me. Those 
Sweet words she told me of my Phcebianus 
Sunk pleasantly into my heart, and thence 
Disperse a comfort unto all my senses. 
Before he travell'd, he would often whisper 
Kind accents in my ears of his affection ; 
But, though I wish'd him well, I durst not give 
Too easy credit to his amorous tongue. 



ovid. 257 

Yet from my childhood I have had a kindness 

For him, as he profess'd he had for me. 

His constancy my only comfort is, 

And I will pay with my affection his. [Exit. 



Scene iv. 
Enter Bassanes and Dacus. 

Bas. You should not be so angry ; he intended 
You no affront. He had been drinking ere 
We came ; you saw he had as much as he 
Could bear. Come, therefore, in again ! shake hands, 
And still continue friends. 

Dae. It must not be. 

Refuse my mistress' health 1 It is a crime 
Which nothing but his death shall expiate. 
His body goes to atoms for % and's soul 
Whither it pleaseth surly Charon to waft it. 
Have I been ever his continual friend — 
Waited on all his worst extravagances 
With my unwearied valour and my sword, 
And am I slighted thus 1 I will rouse up 
The dreadful furies from infernal shades, 
To stigmatize him full of my revenge, — 
The lasting stars of his ingratitude. 

Enter Marullus, Cypassis, Hannibal, Cacala, 
Floretta, and Spinella. 

Cyp. I'll have no quarrelling in my house ! You 
shall be friends ! 
He shall drink Spinella's health, and have no more. 

Cac. And you can hinder quarrels in a bawdy-house, 
you have more power than a constable. But if you 
force him to drink her health, let him have something 
more ; — have her too, though it be but to-night. 

Spin. Leave pimping, Cacala ; I have no need 
Of your assistance in this kind. Bassanes, 
Let me entreat that you would reconcile them ! 

R 



258 ovid. 

Bas. Marullus, I conjure you by our friendship ! 
And, Captain Dacus, he shall have the bowl ! 

{Pointing to Marullus. 

Mar. You shall command me. 

Spin. If you expect my favour, you must leave 
These humours. Are you friends 1 

Dae. I must obey you. 

Flor. Shake hands, and let us in again ! 

Gyp. I need not of Clorina's health inquire ; 
She cannot but be well whom you affect. 

Bas. Cypassis, this is a pretty compliment. 
She's free from sickness, and I will be careful 
To keep her clear from any vicious act. 

Gyp. Doubtless she's virtuous : trouble not your 
head 
With jealousy. 

Bas. I will be wise, old mother ! 

Han. Come, Captain ! 
We men of war are for the field, and there 
Will be victorious. Let the woman here ! [Exeunt. 



Scene v. 

Enter Clorina above, as in her chamher. 

Glor. I am lock'd in, and at it am amaz'd, 
But will conceal it from my servants while 
I any excuse can find. It needs must be 
My husband, for he last was with me here. 
I did not hear him do 't, but in all likelihood 
'Twas he, when's mind did run on something else. 
I am so innocent, I should fear nothing ; 
And yet so timorous that I am in dread. 

Enter Pyrontus and Phylocles below. 

Pyrontus and his friend are come into 

The garden. Gracious Heaven ! divert him from 

The prosecution of his suit to me ! 

My troublesome thoughts have brought a drowsiness 



OVID. 259 

Upon me : sleep shall entertain my time 

Until Bassanes comes and opes the door. 

I will not force the lock, because I am 

A stranger to the reason I'm made prisoner. 

Perhaps my husband knows some mortal danger 

Design'd against me, and hath thus secur'd me 

Till his return. [Withdraws. 

Pyr. My Phylocles, by all 

The circumstances of our mighty friendship, 
I pray thee vex me with no more dissuasions ! 
I cannot look upon my passion to 
The fair Clorina as a crime. If 'tis 
Offence on her to be enamour'd, sure 
All mankind that beholds her must be guilty. 

Phyl. You are so obstinate, my heart foretells me 
You will draw mischiefs on your head ! For Heaven's 

sake, 
Consider on your friendship to Bassanes ! 
Reflect upon the contumely you 
Will bring upon you from the mouths of all 
For your unbridled appetite to the wife 
Of your approved friend, and for the breach 
Of sacred amity by such a crime ! 

Pyr. Your words you scatter in the wind to give 
Counsel to me ; my friendship must submit 
To my more powerful love ! 

Phyl. Noble Pyrontus, 

'Tis not too late yet to consult with reason ! 
Pray, give me leave to wait upon you home, 
Rouse your depressed virtue up, and let 
Time, your own courage, and the gods' assistance 
Clear your brave mind from all these vicious flames ! 

Pyr. I will not leave the house till I have seen 
And spoken with Clorina ! 

Phyl. You have heard 

She is retir'd into her chamber, there 
Hath locked herself up ; and you may believe 
'Tis done to shun your courtship. Will you go 1 

Pyr. I will not stir from hence till I have bless'd 
My eyes with the most glorious beams of hers ! 



260 . ovid. 

Phyl. I then must take my leave. If I can do 
No good with my entreaties to my friend, 
The world shall not inflict their curses on me, 
As if that I conniv'd at his impieties ! 
I pray you come away ! 

Pyr. All-powerful love 

Hath charmed me from obeying your commands ! 

Phyl. Farewell, then ! but be wise, and follow me ! 

[Exit Phylocles. 

Pyr. So let him go ! I, undisturb'd, may now 
Enjoy my thoughts, and follow my own genius ! 
She is not sick, and yet she keeps her chamber, 
And locks herself in, to my greater prejudice. 
That is the window to 't. Oh for the power 
Of Jove, t' fall on her in a golden shower ! 
Mercury ! thanks ! The gardener hath left 
A ladder here. I'll rear it up, and venture 
Thereby to get a sight of her, and, if 
I elsewhere must not, there declare my grief ! 

[Rears and climbs up the ladder. 
The window open ! — everything foretells 
Happy success ! She lies upon her bed — 
Looks like Diana, toiled with rural sports ! 
Fortune hath thus far favoured me, and I 
Will by her foretop hold, and venture in. 
Degenerate minds are known by fear, and fate 
Makes the audacious persons fortunate ! 
She sleeps ! Morpheus his heavy hand hath laid 
On the fair lids of her bright eyes ! I'll kiss 
Them open, till those suns appear, 
And shall disperse those clouds ! 

Clor. My Lord Bassanes, 

You to Clorina are most welcome ever ! 
Alas, I am deceiv'd ! What spectre 's this 
That haunts me in Pyrontus' shape % 

Pyr. It is 

No airy apparition, but the wretched 
Pyrontus' self, who hath presum'd to steal 
Upon your privacies ! 

Clor. For Heaven's sake, go, and never see me more ! 



ovid. 261 

Yourself you too much trouble, and expose 
Me, whether I will or no, to so much ignominy 
By this intrusion, that, should it be known, 
My reputation would be overthrown ! 
For Heaven's sake, hence ! immediately retire, 
Without a word ! 

Pyr. Have you no pity yet 1 

Clor. Have you no goodness, 

No care, and no respect for a poor woman — 
A married one — and your friend's wife 1 You gods 
Deliver me in safety from this monster ! 
Men have exil'd all piety from their hearts ; 
I must not hope for any succour from them ! 
Fie, fie, Pyrontus ! if you have not made 
A league with hell and mischief, vanish straight, 
And purge your foul soul by sincere repentance ! 

Pyr. Are you of so supreme a beauty that 
It were profaneness to compare you to 
The fairest of womankind 1 I think I may 
Say Venus' self doth want of your perfections ! 
And can you harbour so severe a mind 
Within so rich a body ? Give a period 
To your long cruelty, and mercy show ! 

Clor. You blast me with your words, study my ruin ! 

Pyr. Dearest Clorina, have a milder thought 
Of my immense affection ! In a body, 
By nature's liberal hand fram'd to wonder, 
Lodge not a soul for ever void of pity ! 
Slight not my knees, thus bow'd to move a tenderness 
In your so long inexorable heart ! 
Neither despise my tears, which thus I pour 
A sacrifice to your disdain. No longer 
Attire your heart in robes of savageness — 
Armour impenetrably cold. Oh, mollify it 
With the remembrance of the assiduous service 
That I have paid you upon all occasions ! 

Enter Bassanes and Marullus below. 

Bas. Marullus, I have pass'd my word to make 
This afternoon a visit to Spinella. 



262 OVID. 

Mar. You will not so discourteous be, I know. 
Your friend Pyrontus, as I heard within, 
Is come to see you, and is in the garden. 
It seems he has retir'd into some of 
The solitary walks, being out of sight. 

Bas. Faithful Marullus, I will not conceal 
A thought from you that doth disturb my breast, 
He's to our friendship false — loves my Clorina ! 
And, if he hath not yet, intends to tempt her 
By his lewd courtship to incontinent life. 
Because to-day I meant to go unto 
Cypassis' house, I've lock'd her in her chamber, 
To prevent him of his wild aims. 

Mar. I think 

I hear his voice in the next alley to us. 

Bas. My wife is with him ; her tongue I'm well 
acquainted with. 

Mar. It seems they are together. 

Bas. Here stands a ladder at her chamber 
window ! 
How came it hither 1 ? Hark ! monstrous villany! 
He by it is got into her chamber ! 
I am betrayed, Marullus ! — basely injured ! 
Forsake me not, my friend, in my adversity ! 
Eemove the ladder safely, without noise. 
Watch here, Marullus, that he slides not down, 
And so escapes, and this base treachery 
By both of them be impudently denied ! 
So — so 'tis done without discovery : 
Lay it down there, or anywhere. I now 
Will go and make a third in her lewd lodging ! 

Mar. But, my best friend ! noble Bassanes ! let 
not 
A rash impatience move you to say 
Or to act anything unworthy you ! 

Bas. You need not fear me ! [Exit. 

Mar. This is an accident so strange, I cannot 
Consider it without astonishment. 
If these the fruits of marriage be, high Heaven 
Be prais'd that I have liv'd a bachelor ! 



OVID. 263 

Boast not henceforth, you women, of your wealths 
Or beauties ; or if you make no better proof, 
You bring an hell in dowry to your husbands. 

Bassanes unlocks the door above, and enters there. 

Clor. My husband's come ! Oh, you have ruin'd 
me ! — 
Work'd such a mischief that the gods will blush at it. 

Bas. Thou beast ! unworthy of the name of man — 
Much more unworthy of the name of friend ! 
Thy crime so great is, that I need not lose 
A minute in hearing lies for thy excuse ! [Kills him. 
Die ! and go rinse in vain thy so polluted 
Soul in the flaming streams of Phlegethon ! 

Pyr. Let my last words, for they are perfect truth, 
Find credit with you. Your Clorina's chaste ! 
I here surprised her when she was asleep ! 

Bas. He's sunk to hell ! Now, my lewd huswife, 
come ! 
I'll find another room for your disports ! 
Thy unclean body shall no more infect 
My nuptial bed ! 

Clor. Protect, O gracious gods, my innocence ! 

Bas. Walk in, Marullus ! I have suffer'd wrong, 
And this adultress justice shall ere long ! 

[Exeunt omnes. 



Act iv. — Scene i. 
Enter Dacus and Spinella. 

Dae. I tell thee, sweet Spinella, I adore thee ! — 
Have for thee a more generous affection 
Than the greatest lord in all this province hath. 

Spin. You mean Bassanes % But, my doughty 
Captain, 
He doth express his love in golden terms, 
Which I more value than a soldier's oaths. 




264 ovid. 

Dae. He loves you for himself, and not for you ! 
Mine is a virtuous flame. 

Spin. Your dotage is 

Forgetful grown of what is past ! 

Dae. I fain 

Would marry you ! 

Spin. Dacus, I am too young ! 

Dae. Why jests my pretty wanton so % 

Spin. Old women that love melancholy lives 
Are the first creatures to make slavish wives ! 

Dae. Have you so small esteem for holy marriage, 
And can you think it such a bondage % 

Spin. Yes. 

Are not such yoked together, and oftentimes, 
Draw they not contrary ways, like dogs in couples 1 
The tugging at an oar in any galley 
Is as much liberty as your matrimony ! 

Dae. Fie, pretty atheist ! Such profaneness quit, 
And take a husband — take thy Captain Dacus ! 
A man whose sword shall reap the Parthian fields, 
And bring thee in, by frequent victories, 
A large revenue, equal to thy wishes. 

Spin. My glorious-talking Captain, I shall not 
Be won with empty words ! 

Dae. Have you no care 

Of future bliss or bare 1 

Spin. Plato and Virgil he hath read, — I smell him,— 
And courts me with their trim philosophy. 

Dae. As you resolve to live, you do not mean 
To serve the gods'? 

Spin. There you come something near me ! 
But Venus is a goddess, and I shall 
Serve her ! But, Dacus, to be plain with you,' 
I love a gaudy chariot and fine horses, 
Servants of all sorts in rich liveries, 
Delicious meats and wines, costly apparel, 
And jewels of the highest value ! I must 
Outglitter all the females of the province, 
Or I shall want my will ! 

Dae. And all this bravery 



OVID. 265 

Bassanes' wealth shall furnish you withal, 
You hope, as I suppose % But, dear Spinella, 
Think of his marriage ! He hath now a wife 
Of great descent, who brought a fortune to him 
So vast, I want arithmetic to name it ! 
And she may look to be maintain'd at th' height 
Of all his means, and then your hopes will prove 
Fleeting as shadows — vanish in the air ! 

Spin. Twit me not with his wedlock, for our crime 
Will now be greater, and he shall be brought 
To buy his pleasure at a higher value. 

Enter Hannibal, Cacala, and Floretta, — the Roman 

Captain, his Mistress, and his Servant. 

Dae. How fares it with my mighty man of war 1 
Let us shake our victorious hands in peace, 
And pray to Mars to set the world in uproar ! 

Han. That timorous Princes may grow bountiful, 
Court us to take employment on us, while 
Their luxuries they may securely follow ! 

Dae. Brave Captain Hannibal, such iron times 
Would be a golden age to us ! Shall we 
Together walk, and drink an health or two 
To all the sons of battle 1 

Han. I am for you. 

Spin. Then I'll retire, and keep my mother company. 
[Exeunt Hannibal, Dacus, and Spinella. 

Cac. Gentle Floretta, stay ! Let me not lose 
This opportunity to woo thy love ! 

Flor. Where learnt your folly those fine words 1 

Cac. Your eyes have taught me to express my heart ; 
They have infus'd a spirit of speech into me. 

Flor. You have been, certainly, with some pedagogue, 
And hired him to pen this courtship for you. 

Cac. I love thee better than I love my captain. 

Flor. And I your captain much above you affect. 

Cac. What delicate eyes you have ! I'll kiss them 
out, 
And wear them in my ears. 

Flor. You shall be hanged first ! 



266 ovid. 

I'd rather scratch thy heart out with my nails, 
And stuff a cushion with 't. 

Cac. To sit and fart upon % and keep it warm 1 
Thou art a precious rogue, and I had rather 
Have thee to be my wife than any damsel 
That lives in the Suburra. Give me a wench 
In all the gamesome frailty of her youth — 
Especially would she turn honest afterwards ! 

Flor. Thou talk'st at such a random, Cacala, 
That th' art a pastime to me. But why rather 
Wouldst thou elect a beauty broken up 
Than one that's sound 1 

Cac. To tell you the plain truth, 
An honest woman is a bugbear to me; 
I never took delight in their acquaintance. 

Flor. Kun after your master; tell him I would 
speak with him ! 

Cac. I'll pimp no more, but will henceforth grow 
honest. 

Flor. I doubt me, Cacala, thou hast of late 
Been troubled with some terrible dreams. Hast seen 
Pluto and his dark region in thy sleep ? 
What else should make thee talk of virtue % 

Cac. The goodwill, Floretta, that I bear to you 
Engages me to this discourse. I pray thee 
Take me unto thy husband, and we then 
Will run away together, leave Captain Hannibal 
To his new fortune, and resolve, both of us, 
To lead our lives honestly for the future. 

Flor. Out, thou villain ! Turn traitor to a master 
So liberal to thee as my captain is 1 
But that I know he would frown thee to death, 
I would acquaint him with this parley. Amend, 
Or neither he nor I will be thy friend ! [Exit Floretta. 

Cac. I know not what to make of this wench, and 
yet I would fain 
Make her my wife ; but I think I am a fool for my 

labour. 
She'll hold her peace, I hope, — that's all my care, — 
And then to get her I will not despair. [Exit. 



OVID. 



267 



Scene il 

Enter Bassanes, Marullus, and Clorina, with 
Servants. 



Bas. So, place her in that chair, and to the sides 
Tie fast her arms. Keep her hands open thus ! 

[Here the Servants tie her fast, and fasten Pyrontus 

heart in her hands. 
Thus — that she may not close them or remove them ; 
And put her paramour's heart into them — so. 
Now, foul adultress ! thou may'st contemplate 
Of the affection it did bear thee once — 
Reflect upon the mountain of thy sins, 
Which hath overwhelmed the false Pyrontus ! Look! 
Thou most libidinous woman, what a ruin 
Thy lust hath brought upon him and thyself ! 

Clor. I have at large, calling the gods to witness 
That what I told swerv'd not a jot from truth, 
Related to you all the particulars 
Of his unruly love,— that he surprised me — 
Came in at my window whilst I was asleep ; 
With what an horror I was stricken at it 
When I perceiv'd 'twas he ; how I rail'd at him, 
Call'd him by the worst names that I could think 

on, 
Bade him begone for ever from my sight ; 
That I look'd on him as a basilisk, 
The ruin of his honour and mine own ; 
That I would tell you of him, my Bassanes — 
Inform you what a devil's company 
You kept i' th' likeness of a friend ! Just gods ! 
Protect my innocency, and by some means 
Divine inspire these truths into his heart ! 

Bas. That wife who dares pollute the nuptial bed 
Is prodigal enough of vows and tears, 
To win belief from credulous persons she 
Hath done no wrong, when she hath done all the 
wrong. 




268 ovid. 

Clor. Thrice happy are those souls that from the 
cares 
And slanders of this wicked age are free, 
Walk up and down Elysium in their thin 
And airy substances, and have them so 
Transparent that their thoughts may all be seen ! 
Would mine were such ! that the deities 
Would lend their eyes a while to you, that you 
Might search, Bassanes, every cranny of 
My heart ! I do not know a thought I have 
I would conceal from you. 

Bas. Thou hast a soul 

So ulcerous, Clorina, that the prayers 
And vows of all the world can never cleanse it. 

Clor. Oh, the hard heart of unbelieving man ! 
Happy you virgins that do stop your ears 
Against the charms of their bewitching tongues, 
And evermore continue in your chastity ! 
I would to heaven I never had beheld 
Hymen to light his pine ! Have I bestow'd 
Myself on you to find such miseries 
Under your roof 1 I wish my parents had, 
As soon as I was born, expos'd me to 
The open fields, unto the cruelty 
Of the most savage beasts ; or, in a small 
Unguided boat, left me unto the fury 
Of an enraged sea. Would any mischief 
Had fallen upon me but this fatal marriage ! 

Bas. Hearken, Marullus ! Are you not amaz'd 
To hear her speak against our nuptials thus 1 
It is apparent that she doth repent her 
Of taking me, and wish'd she had Pyrontus. 

Mar. I pray you, hear her out. 

Clor. How you mistake 

My meaning, my beloved and cruel husband ! 
I would it had been pleasing to the gods 
I never had been a wife to any ! 
How fortunate a choice might you elsewhere 
Have found, these dire mischances miss'd, and I 
With mv ill fate have no man else infected. 



OVID. 269 

Mar. My heart is big with sorrow at her words, 
And vents itself in this sad dew. 

Bas. What are these tears for you do dry away 1 

Mar. I cannot choose but melt. 

Bas. You are too tender. 
Come ! we will leave her to contemplate here 
The horrid wickednesses she hath acted. 
If that all sense of honour hath not left thee, 
Clorina, die. It will be endless shame 
For thee to live after thou thus hast brought 
Perpetual ignominy on my poor family. 

Mar. I pity her, Bassanes — much commiserate 
Her so disastrous fate. She may be innocent ! 
I pray you think her so ! I hope she is. 

Bas. Her reputation's gone, for ever lost : 
A sea of tears cannot wash off her guilt. 
'Tis so infectious, I am tainted with it. 
False woman, die ! Lost honour never more, 
By any means, admits of any cure. [Exeunt. 

Scene hi. 

Enter Ovid, solus. 

Sure I was born when all the glorious stars 
Were met in counsel to contrive a mischief. 
Under pretence of my loose youthful studies 
For the composing of my art of love, 
In my declining years, when I expected 
Ease and a quiet life, I was exil'd 
From Rome, and here confined, to end my days 
Among a people rude and almost barbarous, 
Except a few of th' gentry and nobility — 
In a cold country, where fierce Jether pays, 
Through divers channels, a continual tribute 
Of his vast streams into the Euxine sea. 
And many have imagin'd Julia, 
Daughter of great Augustus, was too gracious 
And liberal of her amorous favours to me, 
Which caus'd him to inflict this punishment. 



270 ovid. 

But, ere that Emperor left the world, he was 

Informed, for that particular, of my innocency, 

And was acquainted that, if I were faulty, 

It was an error in me, not a crime ; 

For, if I e'er enjoy 'd her, it was through 

Her craft, I taking her to be another. 

But he was too severe : that excellent princess 

He showed as little mercy to as me. 

Now about twenty years, in the small island 

Of Trimerus, near the Apulian shores, 

Confin'd by him, sh' hath led a tedious life. 

I must confess she had a generous kindness 

For me, and took delight to read my poems; 

But, by her letters and authentic witness, 

Clear'd me sufficiently from that reproach, 

And won thereby so much upon her father, 

That I had been repeal'd if he had liv'd. 

Since his decease, by divers messengers, 

Persons of noble rank and quality, 

And by her eloquent epistles, she hath 

For my return to Rome importun'd much 

The great Tiberius, her too cruel husband ; 

But he that to a wife, who brought him all 

The universe in portion, shows no mercy, 

Will not redress my wrongs. Here I must mourn 

Out all my life, and find my funeral urn. [Exit. 



Scene iv. 
Enter Hannibal and Cacala. 

Han. This Captain Dacus is a jovial blade; 
Doubtless a very valiant gentleman, 
And of an heart as liberal as the air. 
Cacala ! how lik'st thou him 1 

Cac. But so, so; yet 
I was well pleas'd to see him pay the reckoning. 
You are far from home, and Mistress Floretta is 
As chargeable as a stable of running horses. 



ovid. 271 

Han. It is grown something late, and time to think 
Of our return unto our lodgings. Look ! 
What's that 1 

[Espies a man hanging on a gibbet 

Cac. Sir, I see nothing. 

Han. Cast thy eyes 

That way. How now % what is 't hangs there ? 

Cac. Alas ! 'tis a poor fellow that was executed 
Two or three days ago. 

Han. He had ill fortune. 

Had he not better have follow'd Mars, and fall'n 
In glorious battle, and his soul expir'd 
Through many wounds, than ignominiously 
Thus sneak to death in noose of paltry halter 1 

Cac. My Captain Hannibal talks evermore 
Of mighty battles, or his little whore. 

Han. What mutter you, sirrah % 

Cac. I, by your valour's leave, was saying, Captain, 
Yon man hangs in a pitiful cold corner; 
The north wind shakes his legs as he were dancing. 
Of wine and women, and of all good meats, 
He hath for ever took his leave. 

Han. I'm sorry for 's hard fate. Some lying people 
Eeport some of the dead have walk'd. If thou 
Canst such a piece of fine activity show, 
Come sup with me to-night ; thou shalt be welcome. 

[Speaks to the hanged man. 

Cac. He bows his head. 

Han. Hang his head ! 

Cac. He need not put himself to such unnecessary 
trouble ; 
He that small favour hath received already 
From some of 's smaller friends. 

Han. If th'art a good dead fellow, come, I say ! 
And sup with me to-night. 

Spec. I'll come ! 

Cac. I think I heard him answer he would come. 

Han. Thou art so timorous, the echo of 
My voice deludes thee. 
Follow me, thou fearful puppy ! 



272 ovid. 

Cac. A dog 

His captainship makes of me. Sir, I shall 
Even tread upon your heels : I dare not stay 
Behind an inch. 

Han. Come, then, for I fear nothing. 

Cac. By your leave, 
I dread the gallows mightily ; and a thief 
That can talk after he's dead is a terrible bugbear. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene v. 

Enter Armelina, Bassanes, and Marullus. 

Arm. I'm come to wait upon you, brother, and 
To see how my dear sister, your Clorina, 
Enjoys her health. I found among your servants 
A general sorrow as I passed along, 
And you, methinks, reflect distracted looks. 
What is the reason of this alteration 
Throughout your family 1 

Bas. I am something troubled, 
And now not in condition for discourse. 

Arm. What is the matter, good Marullus 1 
Though I may suppose some business that hath fallen 
Athwart his expectation hath distemper'd 
His thoughts at present, yet I guess he is not 
Sick ; therefore my afflicted heart misgives me 
That my poor sister is not well. Eesolve me. 
Alas ! I see some malady hath taken her, 
And he, like a good husband, suffers with her, 
Grieves for her want of health. Is it not so ? 

Bas. Sweet Armelina ! at this present leave me ! 
I at another time will fitter be 
To give you th' entertainment you deserve, 
According to the utmost of my power. 

Arm. The gods be with you ! My poor company 
Shall be no longer to you troublesome. 
I hope to find my sister in her chamber, 
And will go sit with her. 



OVID. 



273 



Bas. She is not there. 

Arm. Where is she, then 1 for I resolve to see her. 

Bas. She's not in case to give you entertainment, 
Or to receive a visit. 

Arm. Alas ! you strike me 

Almost as dead as I suspect she is. 
For Heaven's sake, teach me where to find her ! 

Bas. She is alive. 
I pray you let that satisfy, and leave us. 

Arm. Not for the world ! I will not leave the 
house 
Till I have seen and spoken with Clorina ! 

Bas. My dear Marullus, since this lady is 
So very importunate she'll not be diverted, 
Guide her, I pray you, to her sister ! 

Mar. I must obey you, and, fair Armelina, 
Shall wait upon you. 

Arm. Lead, and I follow you ! 

[Exeunt Marullus and Armelina. 

Bas. Now she will curse me, and traduce my name, 
Though, the gods know, her sister's in the blame ! 
He that refrains, for fear of women's tongues, 
To right himself, basely submits to wrongs. [Exit. 



Scene vi. 

After a small supper set forth, enter Hannibal and 
Cacala. 



Han. What ! is this all we're like to have ? 

Cac. So please your soldiership, renowned Captain, 
This is even all ; and it may serve the turn, 
Although I have an appetite as sharp 
As your victorious sword, great Captain Hannibal ! 

Han. Where is Floretta, Cacala 1 Go call her ! 
She will rail at this meal, and call me covetous ! 

Cac. I needs must say, her stomach never failed her; 
Though she's but little, she's a tall woman at a 
trencher ! 

s 



274 ovid. 

Han. Run and call her ! 
Tell her the meat will be cold, and then 'tis spoiled. 

Cac. I may save that labour ; Mistress Spinella hath 
Invited her to supper. 
They and Cypassis eat to-night together. 

Han. Will Captain Dacus be there 1 

Cac. I think not, sir. 
I never knew Cypassis but an hungry ; 
She's not so bountiful as to invite 
Others to eat her meat up ! 

Han. How comes it, then, Floretta is their guest 1 
Sit down, and be not troublesome ! you know 
I'd have it so. 

Cac. I thank your valour. I have some small suspicion 
Bassanes hath a liking took to your 
Dear Damigella ; and Cypassis must 
Court her, and tempt her to his various lust ! 

Han. May be so, Cacala ; let him take his chance. 
If he so lead, I'll follow him the dance ! 
Then I will woo Spinella, and he shall 
Father the spurious issue I shall get on her ! 
Hark ! somebody knocks ! Eise, and inform me who 
Is at the door. How, now ? What ! art thou deaf, 
And hearest me not 1 or dumb, because thou speak'st 

not? 
An apoplexy, sure, hath seized upon thee ! 
Sit down again and drink a glass of wine, 
It will recover thee. Well done ! Now eat thy meat. 
Again there knocks somebody at the door : 
Rise once more, sirrah, and conduct them in ! 
Begone, or I shall kick you to your duty ! 

[He opens the door, turns hack, and 
falls down as in a swoon. 
This idle rascal, sure, the falling sickness 
Hath got of late ! I must be at the charge, 
I fear, to send for a physician to him. 
I wonder who it is, for somebody knocks 
Again. It needs must be a stranger, else 
He such long compliment would not have show'd. 
Still he knocks on ! I will go bring him in ! 



ovid. 275 



Enter Spectre. 



Your name, sir, and your pleasure % 

Spec. My name Helvidius is. 

Han. You are a stranger 

Unknown to me ; I pray what is your business ? 

Spec. I come to sup with you. 

Han. Though clad so meanly, 

You shall be welcome ! 

Spec. I am not so rude 

To press upon you uninvited, Captain ! 

Han. Who should invite you? 

Spec. Sir, yourself 1 

Han. 'Tis strange 

I should forget it, then ! 

Spec. I come unlook'd for, noble Hannibal, 
But you did bid me to supper to-night. 

Han. My memory hath fail'd me. Where, Hel- 
vidius 1 

Spec. At the gibbet, by the city walls, 
Where I did hang in chains. 

Han. This is a courtesy deserves a welcome. 
You are most welcome, sir, and so believe it ! 

Spec. You are my generous patron, and I thank you ! 

Han. Sit down, I pray ; sit down. So, 'tis well done ! 
Cacala ! Where's Cacala ? Give me a glass of wine. 
What ! on the floor still 1 Rise, man ! 

Cac. I dare not stir nor breathe, sir. 

Han. He will not hurt you ! 

Spec. I shall not be so rude, where I find welcome, 
To do a mischief. 

Han. Fill wine, sir ! Much good do you, and here's 
to you, — 
To your fair mistress' health, whether alive, 
Or your companion i' th' Elysian groves ! 

Spec. You much endear me. 

Han. Could I have thought you would have supp'd 
with me, 
You should have been much better treated. 
Sit down and eat, thou silly Cacala ! 






276 ovid. 

Cac. I am very timorous. 

Han. His promise and my valour do protect thee ! 

Cac. This napkin, thus dispos'd under my hat, 
Shall keep my eyes off him. I'll eat like a lion, 
Because I sit in fear ; and after will 
Chew the cud, as some beasts do, to digest it. 

Spec. Good fellow, I salute thee with this bowl. 

Cac. I have no mind to drink yet ; my master 
Is the better pledger of such fancies. 

Han. You shall not refuse him. Off with it, Cacala! 
I'll conclude it ! 

Spec. It has gone round. 

Captain, your kindness hath so far oblig'd me, 
That I presume to crave a favour of you. 

Han. You shall command ! 

Spec. I pray you, dine with me to-morrow. 

Han. You jest ! 

Spec. I am in earnest ! You shall be most welcome ! 

Han. Where 1 

Spec. At the gibbet. 

Han. I'll come. 

Cac. Now my belly's full, I cannot forbear 
To cast a sheep's eye at him. 

Oh ! oh ! — [Cries aloud, falls backward, and, with his 
legs under the table, overthrows it and all 
the meat. 

Spec. I thank you, generous Captain, and good 
night ! 

Han. Farewell, sir, and expect me as I promised! 

[Exit Spectre. 
Rise, thou unmannerly beast, and let's to bed ! 

Cac. Good master, and thrice valiant Captain Han- 
nibal, 
See me in bed first, and asleep, I beseech you ! 
And let me have Mistress Floretta, for I dare not lie 
alone ! 

Han. Follow me, and undress me. 

Cac. Sir, I beseech you have a little patience ! 
Say that I shall not lie alone to-night, 
And you will comfort me ! I otherwise 



ovid. 277 

Shall be so weak with fear, I shall not be 
Able to pluck your stockings off ! 

Han. Get whom 

Thou wilt to be thy bedfellow but Floretta, 
For her I cannot spare. 

Cac. Then, I entreat you, 

Let me lie in the same bed with you both ! 

Han. You must some other lodging find ! 

Cac. Is 't so % 

Then I must old Cypassis try ; perhaps 
A bottle of strong water will prevail so far with her 
That she may give me leave to lie with her. 
And yet I had much rather 
Lie with my old grandmother or grandfather ! 

Han. 'Tis said she was a beauty in her youth. 

Cac. Sure no man can report it that hath seen it, 
For I believe her birth was in the days 
Of Lucius Brutus, who was Rome's first consul. 

[Exeunt 

Scene vii. 

Enter Marullus and Armelina to Clorina, fastened 
in a chair, with the heart of Pyrontus in her hand. 

Arm. Y'ave made me such a terrible relation 
Of his strange jealousy and his foul murder, 
And 's barbarous usage of your dear sweet self, 
That, my Clorina, I'm deficient 
Of language to express my admiration ! 
But, my dull eyes, can you so long refrain 
From dissolution into showers of tears 1 
My heart is sure of stone, or it would break 
At these effects of 's impious proceedings. 

Clor. Have patience, my best sister ! 'Tis enough 
For me to be so miserable — I would not 
My sufferings should beget a grief in you ! 

Arm. Then I more stupid were than savages — 
Than any beast in any wilderness, 
Or any fury in black hell itself 1 




278 ovid. 

Clor. Oh, Armelina, how am I beholding 
Unto you for your pity of my wrongs ! 
And yet I needs must grieve to see you thus 
Afflict yourself at the sad sense of them. 
But I beseech you to assume a courage 
Worthy our noble family, to o'ercome it. 
I shall but a few minutes longer trouble you 
With my unfortunate company ! I find 
My heart too weak to make resistance longer 
Against the impetuous storm of my vast injuries ; 
I find death stealing sensibly upon me. 

Arm. The heavens forbid ! 

Clor. Prayers come too late now to divert my fate. 
I pray you, therefore, good Marullus, haste 
To my dear husband, and your faithful friend, 
Tell him I beg but so much favour from him 
As I may breathe my soul out in his presence, 
And see him once again, and I shall die 
Contentedly, and pardon him my wrongs ! 

Mar. Madam, I do beseech you to have patience ! 
I will go for him, and have hope he will 
Be very shortly reconcil'd unto you, 
For, from my soul, I pity your misfortunes ! 

[Exit Marullus. 

Clor. Shed no more tears ! You have, my Armelina, 
Spent too much of that precious dew already 
On poor unworthy me. 

Arm. You are, Clorina, my elder and 
My only sister, and can I perceive 
Your innocency persecuted thus 
And seem an unconcerned spectator of it? 
It is impossible ! Give me leave, therefore, 
T' express all sorrow I am capable of, 
As tribute of my cordial affection 
To your so lovely, sweet, and injured person ! 

Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 

Clor. Welcome, my too unkind though my dear 
husband ! 
To your Clorina ; welcome, my Bassanes ! 



ovid. 279 

My eyes grow dim, and I my heartstrings feel 

To crack. Your harsh suspicion of my loyalty, 

And so severe an usage of me, have 

Cut off my life in prime of all my youth. 

Here, with my parting breath, in presence of 

The gods, within the hearing of your friend Marullus 

And of my sister, I declare I die 

Free from all guilt, and never injured you. 

And so, farewell for ever ! Gods, I come ! 

Afford my innocency in heaven a room. [She dies 

Mar. She hath took leave of life! 

Arm. I did not think 

Her death had been so near. 
Farewell for ever all content and pleasure ! 
Since she is gone, no thought of joy shall ever 
Possess my heart hereafter ; she that was 
My only happiness is banish'd from me. 
Look, monster of mankind ! this is a sight 
Only befits the eyes of such a villain. 
Here thou hast murder' d the most virtuous wife 
That ever Hymen knew, and one that was 
In her affection over fond of thee. 

JBas. Your passion makes you speak you know not 
what. 
Your sister injur'd me in such high nature, 
That she hath justly brought upon herself 
The end that's come upon her. 

Arm. Th' Anthropophagians, that devour man's 
flesh, 
By thee may be instructed in worse cruelties. 
What hellish wretch but thy more hellish self 
Would thus have used a lady of her beauty? 
To fasten with strong wires, in a case of mail, 
A man's heart in his wife's own hand, and lock her 
With chains into a chair fast, is a mischief 
None but Bassanes durst have done. What tyrant 
In history did ever act so ill 1 
Perillus was an innocent to thee ! 
The vengeance of high Jove hangs o'er thy head, 
To strike thee with his forked thunder dead ! 



280 ovid. 

Bas. No husband but a wittol would have suffer'd 
The prostitution of his wife. 

Arm. You slander her — basely belie her virtues ! 
She to us all hath cleared herself. Marullus 
And I heard her relate the story, — it was 
The saddest that did ever fall from tongue, — 
Which she before had told thee all at large. 
She doted on thee to her death, and with 
Her last expiring breath protested freely 
Her innocency from thy imputed crime. 

Bas. I care not what you say ; she was as foul 
In her base actions as her face was fair ! 

Arm. Thou dost traduce inhumanly her virtue, 
And I believe forbad'st she should have meat. 

Bas. I did not think of it, and therefore gave 
Forth no such order. 

Arm. If the least humanity 

Remains yet in thee, let her be releas'd 
From these so barbarous bonds ; this heart remov'd 
Out of her hand ; it, with Pyrontus' body, 
Delivered to his friends for sepulchre ; 
And I will take care for the funeral rites 
Of sweet Clorina, my poor murder'd sister. 

Bas. 'Twill ease me of some trouble and a charge, 
Therefore I will consent to that demand ; 
And the gods keep me from a second marriage ! 

Arm. Thou need'st not fear that ; thou canst not 
find a woman 
So lost to virtue and to honour that 
Dare be a wife to such a bloody butcher ! 
Sure there's no woman in the world so senseless 
And wicked as to give herself to thee. 
I'll tell thy story unto all I meet, 
And thy reproach shall ring through every street ! 

Bas. Your 'larum may run on, whilst I'll declare 
To all the world how false you women are. 

[Exeunt omnes. 



OVID. 



281 



Act v. — Scene i. 
Enter Ovid, Phylocles, and Caralinda. 

Ovid. I am amaz'd much, and afflicted more, 
With the sad news you have imparted to us. 

Phyl. All my entreaties could not win him thence ; 
And therefore, missing him too long from home, 
And knowing upon what design he stayed, 
I did inquire of Armelina, who 
Made me the sad relation you have heard. 
Oh, brave Pyrontus, I lament thy fate, 
That hast in love prov'd so unfortunate ! 

Car. It is so sad a story you have made us, 
That it draws tears from my eyes ! Though I was 
A stranger to their persons, my weak sex 
Allows me liberty to weep. A man 
Would not be tax'd of softness, to relent 
At so deplorable a history. 

Phyl. Madam, I am so far from blaming you 
For gracing with your tears their cruel fates, 
That my heart chides mine own eyes for not melting. 
Hell never plotted a worse tragedy, 
Nor ever did so great a lover find 
So merciless a death as Lord Pyrontus ; 
Neither did ever virtue and beauty meet 
So hideous a treatment as Clorina. 

Ovid. Have you their bodies seen since they were 
dead 1 
Oh, Phylocles, if you those woeful objects 
Have look'd upon, you have beheld a sight 
More sad than ever Tomos was accus'd for ! 

Phyl. Alas ! I brought the heart and mangled 
body 
Of my dear friend Pyrontus to his house, 
And did attend the corpse of fair Clorina 
To Armelina's palace; where, alas! 
No April shower ever fell so sweetly 
As she doth weep over her sister. 



282 OVID. 

Car. A word with you, dear cousin Ovid. My eyes 
Are big with tears, and my poor heart is loaden 
With grief ! A thousand showers cannot drain them ; 
And time wants years enough to wear away 
The sense and memory of this woeful day. 

Ovid. I must beseech you to have patience. 

Car. I have too much, dear Ovid ! much too 
much ! 
But I will all the fortitude collect 
That my poor heart is capable of, and shall 
Suppress all signs exterior of grief. 
You know the fortune which Trafullus told me? 
I find it now points at me, and will therefore 
Go walk abroad. You are acquainted well 
With Phylocles ; I'll leave you with him. 

Ovid. I will attend upon you. 

Car. By no means. 

You are old and sickly, and I will not be 
So troublesome. 

Ovid. You shall not go alone ! 

Good Phylocles, my cousin Caralinda 
Is something indispos'd, and hath a mind 
To take the air abroad ; you will oblige me 
To bear her company. She is a stranger, 
Which is the cause I crave the trouble from you. 

Phyl. The noble Ovid may command me anything ; 
But you confer much grace on me to give 
Me leave to wait upon a gallant lady 
Of so surpassing excellencies. 

Car. You compliment, sir, with me. 

Ovid. Hereafter you may like better of her company 
When you are more acquainted with her. 
Beware, I pray you, what you do ! Take heed 

[Speaks to Caralinda aside. 
You give not too much credit to predictions ! 
Take heed your vengeance be not rash ! Beware 
You bring not ruin on your flourishing youth ! 

Car. I will not play the Amazon, believe it ; 
And so, best poet, for a while farewell ! 

Phyl. Your servant, generous Ovid ! 



OVID. 



283 



Ovid. Sir, I am yours ! 

[Exeunt Cakalinda and Phylocles. 

love and jealousy ! what mighty power 
You mighty passions have o'er human hearts ! 
How you too often join within one breast, 
And joys that would aspire keep low supprest. 
To be enamoured on a beautiful object, 

As natural to us is as t' eat and drink ; 
But to suspect whom we affect 's a crime, 
Declares a guiltiness within one's self — 
A want of merit ! Then a wise man should 
Make himself worthy of his mistress' love, 
Or never prosecute his amorous suit. 
A discreet lover, in a beauteous outside, 
Expects a mind adorn'd with all the virtues, 
And holds it an impiety to think 
So rich a soul can ever stoop to vice. 
Therefore the lover that is rightly bred 
Admits no jealous thoughts into his head. 

1 wish Bassanes had prov'd such, then he 
Might have enjoy'd a happy life on earth ; 
Too passionate Pyrontus then had liv'd, 

And in some time might have o'ercome himself ; 

The admirable and innocent Clorina 

Had been alive ; this tragedy had never 

Been acted here, which will be famous ever. [Exit. 



Scene ii. 

Enter Bassanes and Marullus. 



Mar. If you would give me leave, as your known 
friend, 
Whom you have long grac'd with your amity, 
To tell you freely my opinion, 
And no offence take it, I should tell you, 
My Lord Bassanes, I conceive you have 
Been much too rash in your proceedings. 

Bas. How % 



284 OVID. 

If such a thought you harbour of my actions, 
I needs must tell Marullus that he thinks me 
Guilty of my wife's blood ! Do not imagine 
Your friend aspers'd with such a crime. She was 
A gallant palace, to do her beauty right, 
Where all the devils of lust inhabited. 

Mar. I cannot tell ; but if one might give credit 
To her so often serious protestations, 
And to her vows utter'd with her last breath, 
She was an innocent ! 

Bas. They that dare play 

So foul a game value not what they say. 

Enter Oaralinda and Phylocles. 

"What lady is that ? 

Mar. I never saw her before. 

Bas. She is a miracle of such handsomeness, 
She can no other be but Venus' self. 

Phyl. Yonder's the murderer of my Lord Pyrontus, 
And the base user of the best of women ! 
My blood is all on fire at this encounter ! 
My hilt seems loadstone, and my hand of iron ; 
I cannot keep it longer from my sword. 
A sudden vengeance he deserves, which shall 
Fall on him. At this present I'll revenge 
The slaughter of my friend, and the sad death 
Of his so barbarously abused Clorina ! 

Car. Dear Phylocles, forbear ! I do conjure 

you, 

By all the love you bore unto Pyrontus, 
Suppress your anger for a while ; yet know, 
I wish him but a short reprieve, and hate him 
As much as you. He at a fitter time 
May find his destiny. Let it not be said 
He died i' the presence of a tender maid ! 

Phyl. I must obey you, madam. 

Bas. She is an object so extremely ravishing, 
I must speak to her. 

Mar. I had thought you had 

Done with that sex for ever ? 



OVID. 



285 



Bas. I resolv'd so ; 

But beauty such a potent charm is known, 
Strongest resolutions it hath overthrown. 
Hail, female goddess ! or, if of womankind, 
Hail, rich epitome of all the beauty 
That ever yet in several women nature 
Revealed to human eyes ! 

Car. Good Phylocles, 

Draw back a little ! I would find to what 
His fine words aim, and he will be more sparing, 
If y'are too near us, to express himself. 

Phyl. I will retire a little ; but beware 
His flatteries win not on your heart ! 

Car. I warrant you. 

Bas. My friend Marullus, I beseech you walk 
aside. 

Mar. I shall, my lord, obey you. 
Good day to Phylocles ! Pray, shun me not, 
For I am much afflicted at the tragedies 
Bassanes' rage and jealousy have acted. 
I had no hand in them, and could I have 
Prevented them, they had not been performed. 

Car. You both provoke my wonder and my blushes. 
Become enamour'd of a stranger % — one 
You never saw before 1 

Phyl. Marullus, he hath done such horrid acts, 
The gods can never punish him enough. 

Bas. It doth become your beauty to work such 
wonders. 
Madam, I am one of the chiefest persons 
Of all this province, and have a heart to love you 
Above the expressions of a thousand tongues ! 

Car. Your name, sir, I beseech you? 

Bas. 'Tis Bassanes ! 

Car. What ! he that through his jealousy and fury 
Murder' d Pyrontus and his innocent wife ? 

Bas. You have been misinform'd. He did deserve 
The fate he found ; and her shame broke her heart ! 
I am the same Bassanes, but not guilty 
Of any crime : they in their deaths found justice. 



286 ovro. 

Car. I've heard too much of them already. 
But how can you, so fresh a widower, so soon 
Give entertainment to a second flame ? 

Bas. Your beauty, that can work such miracles, 
Is a sufficient reason. 

Car. I may prove 

The like sad destiny Clorina did, 
Should I become your wife. 

Bas. It is impossible ! 

You are an heaven where all the virtues meet, 
And therefore cannot be inconstant to 
Your wedlock vows. 

Car. I merit not, Bassanes, 

This favour at your hands. If I e'er wed, 
It shall be unto one of my own country. 

Bas. Within a body form'd to all perfection, 
That ever liberal nature and the gods 
Could, can, or ever shall make up, fair stranger, 
Give not an entertainment to contempt 
Of your enslav'd Bassanes ; neither in 't 
Lodge thoughts disdainful, nor a heart of flint ! 

Car. 'Tis an astonishment in me to hear you 
To make so passionate discourse to me, 
Even one whose name you neither know, nor fortune ; 
I may be poor and vicious. 

Bas. Nothing but virtue 

Can in a body so beautiful inhabit. 
Vice dares not so presumptuous be as t' enter 
Under so fair a roof; and y' are so rich 
In beauty, that I with more joy should marry you 
Than t' be saluted emperor of the world ! 

Car. You court me now, indeed. I have some 
business 
Of such concern, that at this time no longer 
I can stay with you. 

Bas. But must you needs begone 1 

Car. I must, in truth. 

Bas. When shall I, then, receive 

So great a blessing as t' enjoy a second time 
Your coveted company ? 



ovid. 287 

Car. Within this half hour, 

I'll meet you here again. 

Bas. Y'ave raised me to 

A joy as great as Jove himself can know. 

Car. Come, generous Phylocles ; I will impart 
Our parley free to you, and acquaint you 
With the whole cause why I entreated you 
To stifle your revenge, and to retard 
His death : you shall know all my secret thoughts. 

Phyl. Sweet Caralinda, you oblige me much ; 
I shall attend you anywhere. 

[Exeunt Caralinda and Phylocles. 

Bas. Marullus, 

Cupid hath pointed all his shafts with the 
Fair beams of this bright lady's eyes. I am 
Become enamour'd on her to that height, 
That I must marry her or I shall die ! 

Mar. The heavens forbid ! 

Bas. Nay, rather, friend, may all the gods vouch- 
safe it ! 

Mar. You know not what she is ; she may be much 
Unworthy of such nuptials. 
Eesist betimes \ physic too late is took, 
When sickness, through delay, is fixed at th' root. 

Bas. Surely she can 

No other be but Ovid's kinswoman, 
Who, we have heard, so lately came to Tomos. 
I will presume her, then, of noble birth. 
That excellent poet is my worthy friend, 
And I may hope will easily be won 
T' assist me to attain her to my wife. 
Methinks he should be glad to have his cousin 
Well matched here, — to be fix'd a constant comfort 
Both to his age and grief for his exilement. 

Mar. May the just powers divine turn all to the 
best! 

Bas. If I obtain her to become my wife, 
A heaven on earth I shall enjoy this life ! [Exeunt. 



288 ovid. 



Scene hi. 
Enter Hannibal and Cacala. 

Cac. Sir, I entreat you, my too valiant Captain, 
To give me leave to return home ; I have 
No mind to such a formidable dinner. 

Han. What should' st thou fear? My keen vic- 
torious sword 
Carries spells strong enough to conjure down 
All the unruly fiends of Pluto's court ; 
Therefore, for shame, take courage ! Thou hadst 

wont 
To have a good stomach to thy meat ; and sure 
This gallant ghost will treat us very nobly. 

Cac. I have an horror to such company, 
And had a thousand times much rather be 
With Mistress Floretta, and converse with her. 

Han. Thou talk'st so often of her, that I think 
Thou art in love with her. 

Cac. I must confess 

I have some smackering that way ; but the awe 
I stand in of your indignation 
Deters me from professing my respects. 
I wish your captainship would cast her off, 
And give me leave to make her my honest wife. 

Han. Thou talk'st impossibilities, fool Cacala, 
To think to make an whore an honest woman ! 
Such an one would indeed prove a strange wonder ; 
And he that should to such an one be wed 
Might raise a mighty portion to himself 
By taking money for the sight of her. 

Cac. His tongue's no slander. [Aside. 

Han. Walk on ! we're almost there. 

Cac. I'm monstrously afraid ! 

Han. Fear nothing in my company but the marrying 
Of an whore. 

Cac. I ever dreaded stories of hobgoblins, 
But evermore abhorred the sight of them. 



OVID. 289 

Beseech you, therefore, Captain Hannibal, 
Give me leave to go back. 

Han. Thou shalt not leave me. I will make thee 
valiant, 
And neither to fear men nor devils. 

Cac. Heaven bless me ! 

Han. We shall have a brave dinner, without doubt. 

Cac. Instead of a calf's head and glorious bacon, 
A skull half rotten of some malefactor, 
Stolen from a neighbour gallows to his own ; 
And in the place of a brave side of venison, 
The salt haunch of some executed bawd ; 
And in the room of Grecian wines, the moisture 
That doth distil from their hang'd putrified bodies. 
Sir, I will take my leave. 

Han. Thou shalt go with me, 

And, when employment calls me forth again, 
I'll make thee my lieutenant. We're almost there. 
Look you ! he is come down from off his gibbet ! 
'Tis the most courteous fellow that e'er died 
By scurvy halter. Would his judges were 
Truss'd up in 's place, and all the villanous jury 
That did condemn so brave a spark ! 

Enter Spectre. 

Spec. Welcome, thou noblest son of Mars ! 
Give me thy hand, thou servant to great Hannibal ! 
Cac. I wish you would excuse me the compliment. 
Spec. You need not fear me. 
Han. Cacala, be courageous, and dread nothing ! 
My friend Helvidius will no hurt do to thee. 
Should Cerberus bark but at thee, with my sword 
I at one blow would cut off all his heads. 

[A table set forth, covered with a black linen 
cloth ; all the napkins of the same colour; the 
meat and dishes, bottles, wine, and all things 
also. 
Spec. You see your entertainment, and are both 
Most heartily welcome. Let us sit and eat ! 

[They all sit doivn and eat 




290 ovid. 

Cac. I do not like the colour of this linen ; 
The meat and wine and everything is black. 

Spec. 'Tis the sole colour us'd in Pluto's court. 

Cac. The meat tastes well, though. Though I had 
rather be 
At a piece of bread and cheese at Madam Cypassis', 
I cannot choose but eat ; I think my fear 
Hath added to my hunger. 

Spec. Gallant Hannibal, 

I dedicate this bowl to thy Floretta. 

Han. Off with it, then, thou only worthy of 
The other world ! Here, Cacala, thou shalt pledge me ! 

Cac. I'll do my weak endeavour. 

Han. I thank you, sir, and in requital drink 
To him or her you most affect. 

Spec. Y'are noble. 

Friend Cacala, here's to you! and you conclude it. 

Cac. I dare not do otherwise. 

Han. Would you excuse my curiosity, sir % 
I would inquire why you were executed 1 

Spec. I'll satisfy you. The lords and gentry of 
This city Tomos gave order to a statuary 
To make the image of the poet Ovid 
In beaten massy gold, for the honour he 
Had done them by writing an excellent poem 
I' the Getick language in Tiberius' praise. 
When it was ready to have been presented, 
I got into the house and stole it thence, 
Melted it privately, and put it off 
By little parcels — spent it on wanton wenches 
And among boon companions. In my cups, 
Bragg'd on 't to two false brothers, who betrayed me. 

Han. I would they had been born both dumb and 
fools ! 

Spec. I pray you give me leave to be as free 
With you. Why were you banish'd and confin'd 1 

Han. A poor old woman, and a witch, a friend 
Of mine, pretended an occasion to make use 
Of a live infant, ripp'd out of the belly 
Of 's mother j and th' enchantment she was hammering 



ovid. 291 

Was for my service. I stole into a cottage 
That stood alone, where such a woman liv'd then ; 
Found her alone, and had so laid my plot 
That I might undisturbed proceed ; cut up 
Her belly, took her infant thence, and sew'd 
A cat up in the place. So she enjoin' d me. 
This simple sorceress, being for other 
Matters accused, and like to die, confess'd 
This prank. 

Spec. How chanc'd it you escap'd with life 1 ? 

Cac. My captain is the greatest villain that 
I ever heard of ! I will leave his service, 
Although I have oft been told of this before. 

Han. The favourite, all-powerful Sejanus, 
Did bring me off with life : I helped him to 
Floretta's maidenhead, for which good turn 
I also had some bags crammed with sesterces. 

Spec. You had good fortune to escape so well. 

Han. Some business calls me home. I give you 
thanks 
For this brave entertainment ; so, farewell ! 

Spec. I pray you stay awhile ! you shall look on 
A little masque I have provided for you. 

Han. You much oblige me, and are over liberal 
Of your high favours to me. 

Enter, after very solemn loud music, iEACUS, Khada- 
manthus, and Minos, the Judges of Hell; Alecto, 
Tisyphone, and Meg^era, the Furies; and dance 
all together to low music. 

Spec. iEacus, Minos, and Khadamanthus, the three 
Judges in hell ! Tisyphone, Megsera, and Alecto, 
The Furies there, of equal number to them, 
Lead in a dance. 

Cac. Can devils be so merry 1 

But I had ever thought there had been rather 
Three thousand judges there than three ; I wonder 
Their number is so few. So of the Furies, 
For oft on earth one woman hath more in her. 

[The dance ended, this song follows. 



292 ovid. 

Most happy is the libertine, 

And of mankind the most ingenious, 
Who from grave precepts doth decline, 
And doth indulge his jovial genius ! 
Oh, the joys, the joys, 
They have that follow vice, 

Without any fear of the gods ! 
Who freely waste their treasures 
To purchase them their pleasures, 
And are with the virtuous at odds ! 

The atheist is the greatest fool, 

Who only aims to please his senses, 
Thinking in heaven no gods bear rule, 

And tipples, murders, swears, and wenches. 
Oh, the woes, the woes, 
That follow all those 

Who wear out their lives in vice ! 
That swear, whore, kill, and drink, 
And never them bethink, 

Till they fall into hell in a trice ! 
[After the song is ended, they all seize on him, 
and carry him away. 
Han. Must I be then betrayed thus? False 
Helvidius ! 
And foolish Hannibal to trust to spectres 1 

[Exeunt with him. 
Spec. Away with him ! Down to the infernal shades 
Of griefly Pluto's kingdom let him sink ! 
A fouler soul was never seen in hell, 
Where's witchcrafts, rapes, murders, and vicious life 
Will find a suitable endless punishment ! 

[The Spectre vanishes. 
Cac. This was a terrible sight indeed ! Heaven 
keep me 
But in my wits till I can see Floretta, 
And I shall tell her such a tale as will 
Make her turn virtuous, if she hath not lost 
All love to th' powers divine, and fears no vengeance. 

[Exit. 



OVID. 293 



Scene iv. 

Enter Bassanes, solus. 

Bas. I find myself half raised to happiness 
Already, after my so late affliction. 
The stranger lady's beauties triumph here, 
Within my heart. My hopes are fair enough 
That I shall win her to become my wife ; 
Then all my future days I shall esteem 
To be a lasting festival, and more 
To be priz'd by me than are all the feasts 
Observ'd the year through in our calendar. 

Enter Phcebianus and Phylocles. 

Phozb. I now have made you well acquainted with 
My person and my history, and have to you 
Reveal' d the reason why I did entreat 
You to forbear Bassanes, when your rage 
Would fain have flung you on him. Now you know 
The cause why I will meet him. Give me, therefore, 
Leave, noble Phylocles, to go alone ! 
I fear him not at all, and shall not have 
Any need of your kind assistance. 'Tis 
The will, sure, of the gods, that I should singly 
Encounter him. Therefore retire, my friend ! 
Near hereabouts you can conceal yourself. 
You within call may stay ; I shall have quickly 
Despatch'd with him, and shall not fail then to 
Holla you back. See there ! he is a-walking, 
And waiting my approach ! 

Phyl. You must command me. 
The gods be with you ! [Phylocles witltdraws. 

Phoeb. Well met, Bassanes ! Ovid's kinswoman, 
The stranger Caralinda, hath employed me 
To you, to make apology for her 
Not meeting you according to her promise. 
Why do you look so wistly on me 1 Do you 
Know me 1 



294 ovid. 

Bas. I certainly have seen your face 
Before — some alteration that I find 
Some years of absence might have made. Resolve me, 
I pray you, sir ; are you not Phcebianus, 
Pyrontus' younger brother, that have spent 
Three or four years abroad 1 If y'are not he, 
I never saw two faces so alike. 

Phoeb. I Phcebianus am, and Caralinda, 
Whom you so lately troubled with your courtship. 
Through the providence of the almighty gods 
I met with thee in that disguise, and parted 
From thee but to divest me of those clothes, 
And bring my sword to our next parley. 'Tis needless 
To tell thee more, and I have too much time 
Trifled away in this discourse. Pray draw 
Your sword, for one of us must die ! 
Thou traitorously and unawares didst murder 
My brave and hopeful brother ! Though he lov'd 
Clorina, he deserv'd her better far 
Than thou — never attempted violence unto her, 
And in a little time might have subdu'd 
His too unruly passion. Thou hast broke 
Thy innocent lady's heart with usages 
More horrid than a Scythian ever practis'd : 
Therefore, unless you will die basely, draw ! 

Bas. You are a glorious talker, fine young man, 
But I shall presently allay your pride, 
And the fond confidence you seem to have 
In your own valour. 

Phceb. Let us try your skill ! 

Bas. Y' ave sought your ruin by provoking me. 

[They fight. 

Phceb. So ! Have you yet enough % 

Bas. Oh ! you have slain me ! 
I have received so home a thrust, I die 
Without another word ! [Bassanes dies. 

Enter Marullus. 

Phceb. Marullus, in an equal duel I 
Have kill'd your friend. The gods did guide my sword ; 



OVID. 295 

Justice was on my side. He slew my brother, 
And I in Eoman honour could do no less ; 
And to preserve my reputation clear 
Among the Getes, my countrymen, than to 
Fight fairly with him. 

Mar. My mind misgave me some disastrous fate 
Would overtake him for so foul a murder. 
Though I am grieved at his sad death, I'm glad 
You are, my lord, returned so safely home. 

Phceb. You'll see his bodyconvey'd unto his house? 

Mar. I shall not fail. 

Phceb. The gods preserve you ! 

Mar. Farewell, brave Phoebianus ! 

Phceb. Friend Phylocles ! [Calls aloud. 

Phyl. I'm at your service, here ! 

Phceb. Stay, and I'll come to you. [Exit. 

Mar. Draw near, you that his servants are, and bear 
This sad load to his palace. [Exeunt 



Scene v. 

Enter Captain Dacus, Oacala, Cypassis, Floretta, 
and Spinella. 

Cyp. It was a lamentable spectacle 
We met withal as we came hither. 

Dae. An usual one — a dead man ! 
We soldiers smile upon a thousand such. 

Cyp. Bassanes was an extraordinary person. 

Dae. Csesars and lords must die. 

Cac. You talk of trifles. The story I related you 
Of my master Captain Hannibal's being took away 

with devils 
Deserves to be call'd terrible indeed ! 
Hell broke loose on him ; devils and devils' dams 
Seiz'd both upon him ! He would fain have hung 
An arse, but no resistance could prevail. 
Away they hurried him, and left me in 
So great a fear I know not how I came home. 



296 ovid. 

Flor. Thou hast told us too much of this already, 
And too often. 

Cac. 'Twill never out of my memory. 

Flor. Nor from thy tongue, I fear. 

Cac. Oh, fear the gods, Mistress Floretta ! fear 
them ! 
Take heed the devils show you not such a trick ! 
Turn virtuous, pretty one, and marry me. 
For I do love thee above womankind. 
Show thyself, therefore, to me a kind woman. 

Flor. Though I am sorry my Hannibal is perish'd 
so, 
I cannot call him back, and must some care 
Take of myself ; and therefore, Cacala, 
I'll be thy wife. All his remaining goods 
Are ours. 

Cac. And I have something, too, to trust 
In my own country. 

Cyp. Here's a match soon made up ! 

Flor. We will return to Eome. 

Cac. With all my heart ! 

Dae. And will my fair Spinella prove as kind 1 

Spin. Now Lord Bassanes is dead, I am content 
To receive Captain Dacus for my husband. 
Mother, I hope of your allowance to it. 

Cyp. And you shall have it. The gods grant you 

joy i 

Dae. My mother Cypassis now indeed ! 

Cyp. You knew her father. He was your country- 
man, 
And a fine gentleman when he in Eome 
Did marry me ; I else should never have been 
Content t' have liv'd in so remote a province. 
Though his good nature and many losses at sea 
Melted away most of his land, we have 
Silver and gold enough to make you live 
In plenty. 

Dae. Mother, I kiss your reverend hand 
In gratitude. What my own means may prove 
Deficient in, my valour shall supply. 



ovid. 297 

Spin. We'll have no fighting nor any quarrelling ; 
I am for peace. Love hates the noise of war. 

Dae. You are too timorous. Grow as affectionate : 
For thus I print my soul upon thy lips. 

Cac. Let us go home, send for a priest of Hymen, 
And presently each couple on 's be married ! 

Omnes. Agreed ! agreed ! 

Cac. I dare not lie alone to-night, for fear 
My Captain or his friends should give me a visit. 

Spin. Was Hannibal a gentleman by birth 1 

Dae. My pretty one, 

Brave Hannibal, the famous Carthaginian, 
Who march'd like Mars even to the walls of Rome, 
And fought against that senate for the world's empire, 
In one of 's winter quarters at Salapia 
Obtained the affection of a beautiful lady 
Called Isidora, and from them he was 
Descended lineally, as he lately told me. 

Spin. And is now 

Descended to the devil — we have heard how ! 

[Exeunt omnes. 

Scene vi. 

Enter Ovid, Phcebianus, Phylocles, Armelina, 
and Servants. 

Phceb. My father, on his deathbed, did enjoin me, 
For education's sake, to stay so long. 
You grace me, excellent Armelina, much, 
After so long a trial to receive me. 

Arm. I nothing have worthy your acceptation 
But my reciprocal return of love. 

Phceb. I kiss your hand for so immense a bounty. 
But why, my fairest, would you never honour 
My many letters with one single answer ? 

Arm. I durst not, fearing among the Roman ladies 
You might have made a second choice, and then 
Have left me, blasted in my reputation. 

Phceb. I was too true, and you was too severe ! 



298 ovid. 

Arm. But wherefore come you so disguis'd \ and 
why 
From me would you conceal yourself 1 

Phceb. Tis reasonable that I should satisfy you. 
Just upon my departure out of Italy, 
My curiosity led me to Trafullus, 
One of the chief astrologers of these times, 
And happy in foretelling future fortunes. 
I made friends to him, and received these verses : 



" Return disguis'd in woman's clothes, and you 
The murderer of your friend shall pay his due ! 
Obtain your mistress to become your bride, 
And with her gain a world of wealth beside." 

Ovid. Bassanes his death, and fair Clorina's wealth, 
You being her heir, added to your great portion, 
Confirm for truth the soothsayer's prediction. 

Arm. And I again must thank you for so bravely 
Revenging on Bassanes his foul cruelties. 
But why, my Phcebianus, would you not 
Disclose yourself to me 1 

Phceb. You are my countrywoman, and I fear'd 
So doing I should have broken my injunctions. 
But now, divinest lady, when shall I 
Be made so happy by your gracious self 
As to receive you for my bride 1 

Arm. As soon 

As I can give some stint unto my tears ; 
After my sister's obsequies are past. 

Phyl. Pray, listen ! What noise is that without ? 
I think I hear a horn, and 'tis some post. 

Enter a Post. 

Phceb. From whence, my friend, come you 1 
Post. From Rome. 
Phyl. What news 1 

Pod. I've letters for the famous poet Ovid. 
Ovid. Deliver them ; I am that unfortunate man ! 
[Ovid breaks open his letters and reads. 



OVID. 299 

I am undone for ever ! — -No more hope 

For my return must ever flatter me ! 

My wife writes to me, she hath us'd the utmost 

Of her endeavour, assisted by the chiefest 

Of both our friends, and of most power with Caesar, 

For my repeal, or but, at least, removal 

To a more temperate clime, and that th' are both 

Eefus'd her, and she enjoin'd perpetual silence 

In my behalf. Besides, my friend Grsecinus, 

A Roman of high note, hath writ me word 

The gracious Princess Julia, our great empress, 

And my best friend, is in Trimeriis dead. 

One of these news were much too much to strike 

My poor and crazy body into my grave. 

But, joining both their poisonous stings together, 

I needs must to the world this truth impart, 

That Ovid dies here of a broken heart ! [Dies. 

Phyl. It was too sad a truth his last breath did 
Express, for he, alas, is dead indeed ! 

Arm. Death is too prodigal of his tragedies 
In this small city. I must spare from my 
Clorina's fate one shower of tears, to shed 
Upon his grave ! 

Phyl. Not only we, but all the Getic nation 
Were worse than barbarous, paid we not that 

duty 
To excellent Ovid's infelicitous end. 

Arm. He was a most accomplished gentleman, 
A person affable and sweet conditioned, 
And of the Boman poets the most ingenious. 

Phyl. He was in Italy at Sulmo born, 
A pleasant city within the territory 
Of the Peligui, and descended of 
The ancient family of the Nasones, 
Who had preserved the dignity of Roman 
Knights from the first original of that order. 
I' th' Asiatic wars he under Yarro 
Had eminent command, and well discharged it, 
Who now, alas ! after seven years' exilement, 
Hopeless of a repeal, hath breath'd his last ! 






300 OVID. 

Arm. Take up his noble body, and bear it gently 
To his own house ; we all will wait on it thither. 

Phoeb. I'll have a stately monument erected 
Without our city walls, near the chief gate, 
To his fair memory, to declare the gratitude 
Of Tomos to him for the honour it 
Eeceiv'd by his so long abode among us \ 
Enclos'd in which, within a marble urn, 
Curiously wrought, his ashes shall for ever 
Eemain in peace, an endless grace to Pontus ! 

Phyl. No poet ever did more glory contribute 
Unto the Latin language than his pen. 
The soul of poetry feels a convulsion 
By his decease. He no superior knew 
In that sweet art, and was great Virgil's equal. 
His works have an eternity stamp'd on them — 
Do far exceed the Consul Cicero's verses 
And all the lines sacred Augustus ever 
Writ in a numerous strain — all the fine poems 
The darling of the people, the facetious 
And valiant Prince Csesar Germanicus, 
Hath published with applause — and all such things, 
Though wrote by hands that were the spoil of kings. 
[Ovid's body being removed, exeunt omnes. 



THE EPILOGUE. 

Noble and generous spectators, stay ! 
A word at parting, and then go your way. 
Our author is stol'n hence in mighty haste, 
Because he thought the house was overcast 
With clouds on every brow, and was in dread 
A storm would else have fallen upon his head. 
I am his friend, left purposely behind, 
T' inform him how his fate proves — harsh or kind. 
Beseech you, ladies, smile ! Their general frown 
Portends the men will hiss our tragedy down. 
Command them clap their hands, for it is strange 
If men forbear when women bid them change. 
I thank you, ladies ! thank you, gentlemen 1 
To-morrow you may be welcome here again ! 






MURRAY AND GIBB, EDINBURGH, 
PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE. 



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